Falling Into The Shadows
by NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: Something has happened to Catherine Willows' daughter... Can the team stop Catherine before she goes insane? Written by me and my friend. R&R please some Sandle and Catnip
1. Chapter 1

**Yay! Finally something that isn't GSR, Snickers or anything else! Written with the help of my lovely Penguin, Becky. (Celtic–Dreamscape–94). We're taking it in turns. R&R please ~ Erin.**

Catherine Willows left the crime lab at half six in the afternoon, the sun already beginning to sink, casting red light over the city that never sleeps, Las Vegas, Nevada. She drove the normal way home, down the strip and into the suburbs. The traffic was heavy, and with the heat of the day, tedious. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel frustratedly, the open windows of the car letting in no relief, just a warm, sticky breeze. She pulled the neck of her top out a little, hoping to cool down a little, only succeeding in making her top stick to her sweaty skin. Living in Las Vegas was the dream, but in reality it was just like any other American city. Las Vegas was no place for a kid, and yet so many people lived there, so many couples, so many people Catherine never wanted to meet. The sun was little more than a blood red sliver when Catherine pulled up outside her house.

--

The lack of light alerted Catherine to the fact that something was wrong. Her mother was out of town, but Lindsay was coming home from university. She should be back by now. The feeling of unease deepened in Catherine's gut, her brain jumping forwards, producing an adrenaline rush. The front door was open a crack.

'Shit.' She reached for her phone, dialling Grissom's number from memory. 'Grissom? It's Catherine.' She said as the phone went straight to answer phone. 'Please come to my address, someone's broken into my house. I'm going to find out if anything else has happened.' She folded her phone down and fished in her pocket for a pair of latex gloves. She pulled them on with trembling fingers and cautiously nudged the door open…

--

'Catherine? Catherine please phone me back when you get this message, it's important.' Grissom pressed the end call button. 'Straight to answer machine.' He told his team. Nick raised his head.

'Try her home phone?' Grissom shook his head sadly.

'Couldn't connect me. Something is terribly wrong. Sara and Greg, with me. We're going to Catherine's house. Leaving now.' Sara grabbed her kit and hurried out of the door, with Greg close behind her. Grissom checked his phone one last time, then grabbed the keys for his SUV and followed them out into the evening light.

--

'Lindsay? Lindsay are you here?' Silence greeted her. She felt a chill roll down her spine. 'Lindsay? Don't play games.' An ominous silence. Catherine half expected to see Lindsay hanging over the banister, trying to control her laughter watching her mother make a big deal over nothing. She walked into the kitchen, making her way by torchlight, afraid of what she'd find. The kitchen was clear. She let out a long, shaky breath. She felt a sudden need to run away from her house, from Nevada. She held her breath for a second and she heard it. The faintest cry from above her head.

'Lindsay?' She ran up the stairs, dropping her torch as she scrambled up, grazing her arm. She paused at the top, willing the sound to come again. She heard it. She ran into her room, blind. Her feet felt sticky. She looked down and saw a small pool of blood. She gasped, like being stabbed in the heart. She flicked the light switch, fingers numb. Lindsay was lying on Catherine's bed, a cut across her neck, blood dribbling from it in a steady flow.

'LINDSAY!' Catherine ran to her daughter's side, tears dripping off of her cheeks. 'Oh God Lindsay!' Lindsay tried to open her mouth to say something, but blood bubbled out instead of words. She managed one word.

'Mom…' Catherine clung to her daughter as she watched her life drain away, the blood that had once pumped through her veins staining the plain white covers on the bed.

'Lindsay.' Lindsay mouthed one more word, before her eyes stared past Catherine to something she could not see. Catherine placed her hand on Lindsay's forehead, leaving a bloody palm print. Tears dripped freely down her cheeks.

'Lindsay… oh Lindsay.' She whispered, repeating it over and over until the words lost their meaning. The world had lost it's meaning. There was nothing left for her anymore. She closed her eyes and held onto Lindsay, uncaring about the rivulets of blood that ran between her closed fingers. In fact, she cared about nothing anymore.

**TBC… **

**By Becky **


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter 2! written by Becky (celtic-dreamscape-94) hope you enjoy. :D R&R!**

Catherine threw her jacket across the room and dropped onto the bed beside her daughter, wrapping an arm round her waist, sobbing into her shoulder. The scarlet sticky blood soaking through her blouse couldn't have mattered less. Before her, she could see her sanity melting away. She choked on her tears, constricting her lungs, unable to breathe out. Her eyes stung with hot tears which ran down her cheeks every time she blinked. Her lashes grew wet and stuck to her eyelids, her mascara smudging under her eyes.

'Lindsay...' she whispered, over and over, calling her to return.

So many thoughts, so many questions ran through her brain, but they just sounded like screams and sobs, all melting together so she couldn't make sense of them.

--

Grissom pulled up outside Catherine's house, noticing the absence of the usual warm light which should have been pouring out of the windows, and the wide open door. He jumped out of the SUV and pressed the button on the key after everyone else was out, hearing the locking system seal shut with a click. He approached the house and saw the splintered remains of the key hole hanging off the door.

'Gloves on,' he called behind him.

The sound of plastic gloves snapping on filled the hallway as they slowly entered into the deep shadows.

'Split up, find Catherine,' Grissom ordered, 'I'll go upstairs, Sara, Greg, you check down here.'

They nodded and began moving through, checking each room as they went.

Grissom placed a foot on the first step and began climbing. Every other step creaked ominously, as if screaming out that something was wrong. He glanced over the landing, looking for signs of life, or even just a light. A soft orange glow leaked out of the crack underneath one of the doors. The sound of soft sobbing reached his ears.

'...Catherine? You there?' he called.

There was no reply, but a slightly louder sob.

Grissom's pace quickened and he jumped onto the landing, swiftly moving towards the scuffed white door. The sobs grew louder.

'Catherine?' he called again, but quieter.

He gently pushed the door open and stepped forward. His heart almost stopped. His shoe landed in a pool of sticky scarlet blood and the strong scent of metal filled his nostrils. His throat felt like it was closing up as his eyes met the sight of Catherine, motionless on the bed, alongside her daughter. He rushed forward, calling for Greg and Sara as he went.

'Oh, _god_, Catherine!'

Her clothes were soaked in blood and her usual golden blonde hair hung over the side of the bed in sticky strands. Grissom placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and tried to roll her over to look at him, but she refused to move. Her arm was tightly wrapped around Lindsay's waist.

'Come on...you've got to let go,' he murmured in her ear.

She shook her head gently, 'I...can't...leave her.' Her voice was cracked and broken with small .

At that moment, Greg and Sara burst into the room in a panic.

'Is she-" but Greg's question was broken off by the scene before him.

'Oh my god...' Sara cried, rushing forward and kneeling beside Grissom. She saw Lindsay's limp body strewn untidily across the bed behind Catherine, a deep bruised, red slash through her neck, still dribbling blood.

'What happened?' Greg asked, steadily moving forward and avoiding the pool of blood by the threshold.

'I don't know...' replied Grissom, still trying to get Catherine out of the blood soaked bed.

Hot tears began to rush out of Sara's eyes and before long, she couldn't look upon the room any longer. She felt bile rising in her throat and rushed out of the door and towards the bathroom.

'Go see if she's alright,' Grissom told Greg without taking his attention away from Catherine.

Once Greg had left, Grissom leaned over Catherine and whispered in her ear.

'Come on, it's gonna be alright, you can't stay here, let's get you cleaned up...'

Catherine eventually turned her tear and blood stained face to Grissom, but didn't speak. Simply stared, mouth open and closing slowly. Grissom squeezed her hand gently, his expression full of sympathy and kindness. Catherine slowly, reluctantly, unwound her arm from Lindsay's waist and let Grissom lift her into his arms. She snuggled her face into his jacket and began crying harder, wrapping her arms around Grissom's neck.

**R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part three! By Your Worst Nightmare -x- R&R please ^_^**

'Sara?' Greg said quietly, his hand resting uncertainly on the white door of the bathroom.

'Yeah, come in.' Greg pushed the door open and knelt down next to Sara on the cold, hard floor. She turned her head to look at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Greg placed an arm around her shoulder.

'Hey, it's okay… I nearly lost my stomach too.' Sara sniffed and nodded.

'But I'm the one that never loses their stomach… but seeing Catherine's girl there like that… I've known Lindsay since she little. It's so hard to believe that she's gone… and that she's now part of a criminal investigation.' Greg squeezed her shoulder.

'I know… poor Catherine. Losing Eddie… Sam… and now Lindsay. A mother should never have to bury their child.' Sara nodded, crying for Lindsay, for Catherine. Greg stood for a second, feeling uncomfortable. He'd never known Lindsay that well, but losing a child was the hardest thing for a parent. He took Sara's hand and pulled her to her feet. She smiled at him.

'Thanks Greg.' He shrugged his shoulders. They stepped out of the bathroom, all trace of the mood forgotten and they saw David and a dark haired man carrying a black body bag away on a stretcher. Sara walked along the landing to where Catherine and Grissom were, Greg close behind her. She pushed the door open again, pulling her camera out of it's bag, her heart breaking as she did so.

'Catherine?' Sara said quietly and walked over to the bed where Grissom was holding her in his arms. She lightly touched Grissom's shoulder, hearing Greg snapping photos behind her as she did so.

'Grissom… I'll take Catherine back to the station. Help Greg.' She whispered in his ear. He nodded slightly and quietly murmured it to Catherine. Sara saw Catherine's haunted eyes appear over the top of Grissom's arm, staring past her, into space. Sara sat on the edge of the bed, reaching her hand out to Catherine, gently brushing her skin. Catherine turned her head towards her, her eyes dead. Sara lifted her off of Grissom's lap, holding her upright. A word fell from Catherine's lips.

'Lindsay…' Sara looked Catherine straight in the eye.

'Catherine… come with me. Please, just trust me. It's Sara.' Catherine trembled but allowed herself to be led away, blood covered hands gripping Sara's jacket in desperation.

'I couldn't save her… I let her die!' Catherine said, her voice getting louder with each word until she was nearly screaming, tears running down her face, mingling with Lindsay's blood. Sara hugged her tightly, holding Catherine and not saying anything, letting her cry. Sara could see the crime tape and hear the sound of sirens and a shouting crowd.

'Catherine, come with me, quickly.' They walked parallel to the crowd, shielding Catherine from view as she made her way to a police squad car. Sara sat with Catherine inside the car as James Brass drove them away from the house haunted with memories.

--

Catherine sat, catatonic in the Police Department bathroom, letting Sara clean the blood off of her hands and face. A tear would fall occasionally, landing either on her lap or Sara's hand. When Sara had finished washing the drying, congealing blood off of Catherine's hands and face, she scrunched up the wipes and tossed them into the bin. Catherine turned her pale face to Sara and dutifully allowed her to pull of her jacket and shirt. Sara handed her a plain black tee from her locker and Catherine pulled it on, mussing up her blood caked hair. There was a tap on the door.

'Yeah?' Sara called back, wiping Catherine's arms until the blood streaks had gone. Sofia edged her way in, three cups of coffee in hand. Sara looked pointedly at them.

'Catherine's has brandy in it.' She supplied quickly. Sara smiled and looked at Catherine, sitting on a toilet, her head in her hands.

'She's going to need more than Brandy, Sof. She just lost her daughter.' Sofia looked at Catherine, before giving Sara the coffee and enfolding Catherine in her arms. Catherine felt hot tears prick her eyes again, and let them fall, not feeling the rhythmic stabbing of pain in her chest.

**Becky's Turn :P **

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	4. Chapter 4

**By Becky!!! ;)**

Catherine sipped on the coffee slowly. Her eyes stared ahead, not fixed on anything imparticular. She felt numb. Completely cold. She knew the brandy lacing her hot drink would do nothing for her. This was too much for a bit of alcohol to handle. She kept telling herself over and over again that it was all just a dream and that when she got home, everything would be alright. Lindsay would be sat on the couch, laughing at her favourite TV show, not a care in the world. But the tell tale tan the blood had left on her skin was more than enough evidence to tell her otherwise. She felt the chill of the room's cold tile walls prickle at her bare arms. Her skin felt tight, as if it was being pulled in around her. The feeling of the dry blood lingered even though it was no longer there. A salty tear gathered on her eyelash and dropped into the coffee. The sound of the splash echoed in her ears. The surroundings felt like a blur. Every sound was like torture. Too loud. Too penetrating. The scene in the bedroom played over and over in her head like a dodgy VCR. The single whimpering noise from Lindsay's pale lips emphasised a hundred times.

Catherine's trance was suddenly shattered by Sara's voice.

'Hey, you can stay at my place for however long, if you'd like.'

Catherine nodded, staring at the coffee rippling in her mug. She didn't have the energy to care. She felt at a loss of absolutely everything. Everything except the pain. Sara just stood there, watching Catherine's empty figure. How could she possibly be able to comfort her? The only loss she'd ever experienced was her father, when she was six. What could she really know?

Catherine stood swiftly, unexpectedly. She moved past Sara and towards the door, but paused half way. She turned on her heel, hesitated and then turned out the door again, ignoring her colleague's questions. Where are you going? Are you alright?

Pushing the door open she walked past reception. Seeing that no one was there, she quickly grabbed a set of car keys from behind the desk and moved brusquely out of the front doors. Stepping out into the cold night air in just a small t-shirt felt no different than sitting in the bathroom. Hot and cold. She couldn't feel them. She scrunched her eyes tight. There were no tears. No, she had moved onto the dry, stinging eyes which bothered you constantly, but you just couldn't cry. She picked the closest PD car and twisted the key in the door, bringing a soft thud to her ears as the locking system opened. She swung in and shut the door heavily, placing her clammy hands on the black leathery steering wheel. After a few seconds she shoved the key into the engine and brought it rumbling to life.

--

'Grissom. Catherine's just left the station; I don't know where she's going. She doesn't have a car.'

'What? Why didn't you stop her?'

'I...don't know. Sorry.'

'Well, did she say anything?'

'No, she just left. Ignored me completely.'

'Get out there and find her!'

'Yes, sorry.'

Sara heard a click and a beep at the other end of the line. She posted her phone into her pocket and quickly ran out the front doors, looking around for her colleague. A pair of headlights flashed on to her left, illuminating Catherine's figure in the driver's seat. Sara ran over to the PD car, trying the door handle before grabbing the roof rail and knocking on the window furiously. But it was useless. Catherine revved the engine and sped off out of the car park, leaving Sara in a stumbling gait amidst the tyre smoke. Regaining her balance, Sara rushed to her own car and jumped into the driver's seat as fast as she could, slamming the door and starting up her engine. Screeching out of the car park, she snatched her phone from her pocket and opened it, dialling Grissom again.

'She's in a PD car. I'm in pursuit,' Sara said as soon as the call connected. She snapped the phone shut, abruptly ending the call and threw it into the passenger seat. She shoved the accelerator into the floor. CSI business. She could go as fast as she damn well pleased.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Erin again! :)**

Catherine heard her phone ring from the backseat, a digitalised, fake-sounding 'original phone' sound. She picked it up, despite navigating the streets of Las Vegas during the night and checked to see who it was. 'Sara' the name on the screen flashed up. She groaned and looked in her mirror, seeing her behind her, throwing her phone onto the passenger seat in frustration. Having lived in Las Vegas all her life, Catherine detoured in a lesser-known shortcut, losing Sara as she did so. Memories were bombarding her skull, bouncing around and unforgettable. Lindsay lying, deathly white and bleeding in her arms, a pool of blood forming around them. She felt tears prickle her eyes again and clenched her fist, trapping her thumb between her fingers, causing pain to shoot up her arm. She ignored it. Lindsay had been in more pain than she ever would be. A quiet sob escaped her lips. Her phone rang again, the irritating ring tone grating her nerves, hurting her head as she tried to think. She flicked it open.

'Catherine.'

'Catherine, thank God. Where the hell are you?' Sara's angry, if relieved, voice filtered into Catherine's ear.

'Somewhere.' She said, deadpan.

'Catherine… Don't do this. I…' Sara trailed off, until all Catherine could hear was the sound of breathing.

'Sara… say whatever you like. It won't fix the hole in my heart where Lindsay was. Where Lindsay should be.' Her voice became choked by a sob and, unable to see, she pulled up to the curb.

'Catherine! Don't do anything stupid. What about your mom? She's all you have and you're all she has now. We'll always be here for you… but family must come first…' Sara stopped, realising what she'd said.

'Yes Sara, family must come first. It never did, which is why Lindsay is dead. If I'd been a better mother to her, been there for her, then maybe she'd not have come home today, but last term. But work always came first for me. Lindsay was always second. And I can never make it up to her. Never. Don't you see? My. Daughter. Is. Dead!' She screamed the last four words and hung up on Sara, tears once again spilling down her cheeks.

-

Sara stared at the phone in disbelief… had Catherine really just lost her temper with her? Catherine, the mellowest of them who never, ever lost her temper? It sounded like it. She dialled Grissom's number again.

'Grissom?' She said, her voice shaking.

'Sara? Have you got her yet?' His voice was anxious, urgent.

'No… she just… lost it.'

'What do you mean?' He asked her tenderly. Sara told him, her heart heavy with a sense of betrayal, as though the exchange had been secret.

'Than she just… screamed at me "My. Daughter. Is. Dead!" and hung up. Grissom. I'm scared. What if she does something… stupid.' She asked delicately. Grissom was silent for a second, and then started talking, the tone more tense, urgently relaying instructions.

'Right… we need a unit at every one of Sam's hotels and Casino's. God help us. Sara, go to the Olympus, hurry!' It dawned on Sara.

'Shit Grissom! You think she would?'

'I don't pretend to know what a grief stricken mother would do. Catherine is blinded by her loss… we need to make her see that there are still things to live for' Sara nodded, forgetting he couldn't see and clicked the phone down. Back at the PD, Grissom heard the dial tone and whispered, though she couldn't hear:

'God speed Sara… God speed.'

-

Catherine parked the car a little way away from the Tangiers and got out, putting her hood up as she did so, to hide the bloodstains in her hair. She walked inconspicuously to the desk.

'Can I have a room please?' she asked the man on the desk, someone who didn't know her thank God.

'Umm let me see…' She grabbed his wrist.

'I'm Sam Braun's daughter.' The man suddenly smiled and handed her a key.

'In that case, enjoy your stay.'

'Thank you.' She walked quickly to the elevator and punched in the number for the penthouse… her late fathers. The lift was empty apart from her, but she looked away from the security cameras, they would be looking for her. In case she did exactly what she was about to do. The penthouse was mercifully empty and clean. She walked in and closed the door, stripping off her clothes and walking into the bathroom, ready to wash the blood out of her hair. The bath was warm, warm enough for her to forget, if only for a moment, that the world behind these walls was cold and empty now.

-

Nick ran up to the desk at the Tangiers.

'Has a blonde woman checked in here? Sam Braun's daughter?' The man smiled.

'Sure did, about half an hour ago I guess.' Nick pulled out his phone.

'Grissom. She's at the Tangiers.' He folded it shut without waiting for an answer. 'What room?' He had turned back to the young man at the desk.

'Penthouse… look… is she in trouble or something?' Nick gave him a grim look.

'She could be.'

-

Catherine stood on the roof overlooking Las Vegas, her wet hair drying in the slight breeze. She took a step towards the edge of the roof, the raised edge just low enough for her to step on. She sat on the wall, the breeze blowing water droplets from her hair over the city. The water had run red during her bath, reminding her painfully of Lindsay. Lindsay was dead… she didn't let another tear fall, but stood up. The ground below looked far away, but she pulled a razor out of her bag, just in case the fall didn't kill her… blood loss would. She looked over the city one last time before pressing the razor into her flesh, drawing lines of blood. She ignored the pain and stood up, blood dripping onto the concrete. She heard sirens and looked down. The police were there. Had they seen her? She hoped so. She looked up at the stars, tears blurring her vision, and let herself fall…

**Pretty please review ^_^ You can have cookies :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Beckeh's Chapter! Enjoy!**

The wind whipped her hair. The world seemed silent. Was she flying? Was she falling? No matter. She was running full speed towards her daughter, towards another life where she could be with Lindsay forever. The sickening, choking feeling that should have been making her scream just felt like a release from life, the promise of rebirth.

Catherine closed her eyes peacefully. Cool night air brushing over her face. Tumbling towards thick Las Vegas concrete.

Suddenly there was something tightening around her wrist and she was jerked to a halt. Her eyes flashed open and suddenly all the noises of the busy city crashed into her ear drums. Beeping horns, music, people. She looked up and suddenly felt another jerk as she fell down further.

"Nick! What are you doing?!" she yelled as she saw her colleague hanging off the edge of the roof with her wrist in hand.

"Saving you!"

A tear escaped Catherine's eye. "But you're risking your life!"

"Yep," Nick replied, looking at the ground far below, "I can see that...but please explain to me what the _hell_ you think you're doing?!"

"Please. Let me go..." Catherine whispered, almost inaudible over the sounds of the screaming city.

"That's the _last _thing I would do, Catherine. Don't you see what you're doing? How do think we would feel if you committed suicide? _How do think we'd feel?!_"

Nick groaned as his fingers slipped further and further towards the edge of the building, as Catherine slipped further and further out of his grip.

"We need you, Catherine. You can't do this!"

"Every time we had a case where a child was hurt, I ran home to Lindsay, fearing for her...I spent years trying to tell her how much I love her...and now it feels like I didn't tell her enough..."

Nick stopped looking at his slipping fingers, stopped willing them to remain fast and turned his gaze down to Catherine.

"You...you couldn't do anything. Don't blame yourself. _Please._"

"But you know I always will, Nick," she said slowly, hoarsely, just being able to talk over the feeling of her throat closing up.

--

Grissom ran full pelt up the stairs towards the roof. A lift just wouldn't feel fast enough. He prayed Nick had got there in time. After losing Gribbs and Warrick, it couldn't be possible to lose _Catherine_. She wasn't suicidal. Grissom kept telling himself. Skipping steps as he ran towards the top of the building. Sara and Greg were close behind.

Eventually, the three of them burst out of the fire exit onto the roof. They searched around wildly, trying to locate their other two team members.

Suddenly Greg saw fingertips the roof's edge. "There!" he cried as he ran forward. Tumbling to his knees he looked over the edge, the wind whipping his highlighted hair and sending chills down his spine.

"Nick! Catherine!" he yelled over the gales.

Nick's eyes shot up to meet Greg's, and then Grissom's, and then Sara's.

"Help! I can't hold on for much longer!" Nick replied, desperately clinging onto Catherine's bloodied wrist with all his strength.

Grissom fell to his knees beside Greg and grabbed Nick's arm, pulling as hard as he could.

"Help me, Greg!"

Greg shot into action and seized Nick's arm, pulling alongside Grissom. All Sara could seem to do was pace frantically behind her two colleagues, willing Nick up onto the roof with Catherine. Willing wasn't much use. But there wasn't enough space to help. Tears blurred her vision. Never had Catherine been a suicidal, never had she thought Catherine _could _be suicidal...and yet here they all were, saving her from falling to her death. Well, everyone except Sara. She watched faces straining, muscles straining, core emotional strength straining as Greg and Grissom urgently tried to pull the two agents to safety.

"Come _ON!_" Greg cried as Nick slowly started to emerge from over the edge. Delivering Nick through the space between them, Grissom and Greg turned their attention to Catherine, who was beginning to appear now. But just as they reached for arms, her bloodied wrist slipped out of Nick's tired grip and she disappeared back over the edge.

Greg screamed out. "CATHERINE!"

He flung himself towards the edge, his heart in his throat. Swinging his arm down, he just managed to grasp her arm. And then he was skidding over the edge himself...

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	7. Chapter 7

'Greg!' He heard Sara shout as he slithered towards the edge, the concrete ledge doing nothing more than scraping the skin off his knees, shredding his jeans. He felt Catherine's bloody hand slide from his grip, and reached down with his other hand, grabbing below her wrists. She fought him, tears streaming down her face.

'Let me go Greg… please.' She begged, scratching at his skin, trying to make him let go.

'Catherine… you know I can't do that. Please… you still have things to live for! Please Catherine.' Catherine shook her head sadly, the movement pulling Greg farther and farther over the edge. Sara stopped pacing and leapt forwards, grabbing Greg around the waist. Greg gasped.

'Sara, what are you doing?' He gasped, feeling her arms around his waist.

'Saving yours, and Catherine's life.' She hissed in his ear. 'Now pull.' Sara pulled Greg back along the roof, grazing his knees and he gritted his teeth as he pulled Catherine up over the lip of the building, her blood smearing on the cement.

'Grissom! Get her to a hospital!' Greg shouted, completely worn out, wanting nothing more than to collapse on the concrete and sleep. Sara grabbed his hand and dragged him up, pulling him roughly into a hug.

'Greg… Are you okay?' She asked him, rubbing circles into his back as he clung to her shoulders and nuzzled himself into her chest. She pulled him out at arms length and studied him, reading into his face. He clung to her, tears rolling down his face. Sara wiped them off his face tenderly with her finger. He gave her a watery smile and felt Catherine's blood, sticky and thick on his hands. He pressed his face into Sara's shoulder, sobbing quietly and felt her stroke his hair gently, lacing her fingers into it, her warmth comforting. She kissed his forehead gently, her lips only just brushing the smooth skin. He looked up at her, ashen white and waxy, sweat across his forehead. Even in the darkness of the roof she could still see the tears glistening on his cheeks and felt a terrible, heart-wrenching sense of sadness.

'Oh Greg…' She whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek.

'Sara…' He sighed, and burrowed himself into her hair, hiding himself from everyone else. He felt a hand that wasn't Sara's on his shoulder.

'You did good Greg.' He heard Grissom's voice behind him. He turned and faced him; tear tracks running down his face.

'I did?' He felt himself becoming weak and turned back to Sara, letting her catch him and hold him tightly; his tears soaking the front of her soft black shirt. Grissom patted his shoulder awkwardly and walked off. Sara pulled Greg back a little and kissed him gently on the lips, smoothing his hair gently with her hand as she did so. He kissed her back, placing a hand on her waist and pressing himself closer to her. She placed her other hand on his cheek, cupping it and stroking it gently with her fingers, brushing the tears from his eyes with her fingertips. He felt a tear spill over his cheek and drip onto her hand. They broke apart and Greg broke down, sobbing quietly onto Sara's shoulder as she stroked his hair and whispered to him.

**--**

'Catherine? Catherine, stay with me.' Nick said to Catherine as she lay on the cement roof. She was ashen white and blood streaked her skin, tanning it a dull brown as it dried. Her wrists were red and inflamed, blood rushing from the wounds she had made. Nick grabbed her and held her in his arms, ignoring the blood streaking his shirt. Catherine opened her blue eyes and tried to push herself away with her fading strength.

'Nick…' She whispered, tears cutting tracks through the blood on her face. 'Please Nick… please just let me go.' She said hoarsely, reaching up with a bloody hand to stroke his face. 'Please… I don't want to live anymore… there's nothing left for me. Nick please!' She was crying properly, tears falling thick and fast down her face as she lay in his arms. Nick held her tightly, standing up and walking quickly to where the elevator was.

'Catherine… I can't do that, you know I can't.' Catherine let out a whimper and turned so that her face was buried in his chest. He felt her tears soak his shirt and her blood slip over the skin of his arms. 'Catherine?' Catherine was silent. He sprinted to the elevator and pounded the button, hoping it would move. He felt tears rise in his eyes. 'Catherine? Catherine don't you dare! Stay with me you hear me? Stay with me!' The elevator finally stopped and he ran out, sprinting as fast as he could to the waiting ambulance. The paramedics sprang into action, bundling her onto a foam mattress, attaching an oxygen mask. Nick waited as the attached a cardiac monitor, saw it splutter into life. And then his world fell to pieces as he heard the steady wail. He slid down against the side of his car, head in his hands, blood covering his shirt…

**Becky!! Your go! Review? Cookies and muffins for your troubles? Or hugs? Hugs work too ^_^**


	8. Chapter 8

'Cardiac arrest, paddles!' commanded the paramedic, cutting the blood caked shirt from Catherine's torso. The second paramedic grabbed the paddles and applied the conducting gel, rubbing them together vigorously before applying them to Catherine's chest.

'Charging, clear!' he called, warning his colleague to move back as the charge passed through the CSI agent's body.

Nick listened painfully, his head buried in his hands, knees pulled to his chest.

'Charging, clear!'

The once warm blood soaked in his shirt began to turn cold, giving him chills.

'Charging, clear!'

He shook. Tears escaped the corners of his eyes.

'Charging, clear!'

No, he wouldn't allow himself to believe that Catherine was leaving them. How could she? She was stronger than this.

'Charging-'

'No, wait, we've got something...it's faint, but it's there.'

Nick's head shot up at the sound of the heart monitor beginning to bleep steadily, his eyes full of hope, tears draining down his cheeks. He clambered up and observed as the paramedics stabilised her. Just as they were about to shut the doors, Nick dashed forward and got his hand in front of them.

'I'm riding with her.' It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

He climbed into the ambulance and sat on the bench alongside Catherine, reaching out and squeezing her hand gently.

--

Greg, Sara and Grissom watched Nick go with Catherine to the hospital, seeing off the red and blue flashing lights with blank expressions. Sara still had her arm wrapped around Greg. He was still trembling, drying tears making his skin feel tight around his cheeks. His eyes stung, in need of rest, but he couldn't oblige, he was too weak even for that. Every inch of muscle ached. His knees were torn open, throbbing, stinging.

'Sara...' he whispered, his voice cracked and parched.

Suddenly he crumbled to the ground, his legs giving way underneath him.

'Greg! Are you alright?' Sara cried, dropping to the ground beside Greg.

He shook his head softly, his eyelids fluttering.

'God, Grissom, he needs to go to the hospital,' Sara said, looking at Greg's pale face and fading state of consciousness.

Grissom nodded and took one of Greg's arms firmly in his hands, awaiting Sara to do the same. They pulled him up and slung his arms round their shoulders, guiding him to the SUV. Grissom opened the door to the backseat and they carefully delivered Greg onto the cool leather. Grissom got into the driver's seat while Sara gently pushed the door closed and rushed round the other side of the vehicle, clambering in and resting Greg's head on her lap. She stroked his cheek gently, comfortingly, whispering sweet nothings. Greg's eyes shut gently and a weak smile flitted across his lips, revelling in the warmth Sara provided him. She continued to thread her fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face and wiping away the tears with her thumb. The engine roared into life and they were soon speeding to Desert Palm Hospital. Grissom's eyes flicked over Sara and Greg in the backseat through the rear-view. Sara surveyed Greg. And that was when she saw the scarlet blood pools growing on the black leather beneath his knees.

'Um, Grissom...hurry up,' Sara murmured, her heart pacing.

'What's wrong?'

'He's losing a lot of blood.'

Grissom looked in the rear view again and saw the slick pools growing on the backseat. He shoved the accelerator into the floor.

'When did that happen? I didn't think he wasn't that badly injured,' Grissom said, his brows knitted together.

'I guess the jeans covered it up just enough,' Sara replied, now seeing blood stains on her own trousers from where she and Greg had been close, 'the roofing _was_ pretty nasty...hurry up.'

--

Catherine was pushed through the emergency doors of Desert Palm Hospital, Nick running along beside as doctors began to gather each side of the bed.

Soon, she was in a room with a bag of blood hung up beside her, supplying her with blood to replace what she had lost. A doctor had cleaned and dressed her arm, stopping any more blood from escaping. Nick sat beside her in a chair pulled up to the bedside. He surveyed the bruises his and Greg's hands had left, holding her hand gently. He wished he hadn't caused her more pain, but it was better than her being dead. How could she think she had nothing to live for? What about the team? What about her mother? What about..._him_? He felt so close to her...he wanted her, he _needed _her. From her head to her little toe, there was nothing he had ever despised about her. Not even now did he feel anything against her. He just felt confusion. She was usually so controlled...and now she had tried to commit suicide. It intimidated him. How someone could change so radically when hit in just the right spot. He tried to imagine himself in Catherine's position, but he couldn't get close. He couldn't even get within reaching distance. He wanted to be there for her now and forever...but what if she wouldn't _want _him to be there? What if she kept trying to take her life? Nick stood for a moment and stroked Catherine's cold cheek, placing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

'Don't leave us Catherine,' he murmured softly, slowly returning to his seat and placing his hand over hers again.

--

Sara stepped back from Greg's bed slowly, eyes wide on the glinting suture needle that was clasped in the young doctor's hand. Needles. She hated needles.

'Sara?' Greg spoke weakly, feeling the absence of warmth in his palm where her hand had been. He opened his eyes slowly, beginning to turn his head towards Sara.

'I...you know I don't like needles Greg.'

'But...I need you Sara. I need someone...I'm scared...'

Sara looked down into Greg's paling face. He had lost a lot of blood. The gashes on his knees were deep. Much deeper than they had thought. His legs were tanned with the remnants of the dried blood, the rest of his skin deathly pale. The gown he now wore had stained hems from the blood that continued to leak from his knees.

'Why are you scared? You're all safe now.'

'I've been in hospital three times this year, what if I don't survive next time? What if I'm getting too lucky?'

Sara looked into his big brown eyes, her own beginning to sting with the signs of tears.

'Don't talk like that Greg. You're going to be alright, alright?'

Greg avoided her gaze, clearly unconvinced.

Sara needed to comfort him. She swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the needle that was now working its way through Greg's skin, slowly tying up the unrelenting wound. Greg's head fell back into the pillows; teeth gritted against the pain. He watched the B+ blood crawl through the lines and into his arm.

Sara took a deep breath and swallowed again, trying her best to overcome the sense of fear embedded in her stomach. For Greg. A few moments later and she stepped forward gradually. As soon as her thighs met the side of the bed, she grasped Greg's hand in both of hers and squeezed gently.

'I'm here,' she murmured softly.

Greg looked up at her uncertainly before his face contorted with pain, the needle pressing through his skin again. His grip on her hands tightened.

'It's alright Greg, be as brave as you were before,' Sara told him softly.

The doctor looked up at the two, smiling.

'Oi! Concentrate on the knee!' Sara commanded, pointing down at Greg's knee where the needle was sticking out at a strange angle.

The doctor's smile vanished and he quickly looked down again, righting the needle.

Greg smiled softly, squeezing Sara's hand.


	9. Chapter 9

Catherine lay on the bed, her blonde hair matted into thick tangles by the wind. Nick sat on a stool next to her bed, his hand gently resting on hers, fingering the bruises he had made.

'I'm so sorry Catherine…' He muttered, gently stroking the bruises and allowing a tear to fall, landing perfectly circular on the back of her hand. He brushed it away with a finger and let go of her hand for a second, standing up to get a glass of water.

'Catherine… please hold on… for the team, for your mom… for me…' He trailed off, blushing furiously, despite knowing she was unconscious. He sighed… did she realise anything? When she woke up would her tell her? Would she care? He doubted all three; she was blinded by the loss of Lindsay. What possible reason would she have to hang on for him? He realised he'd been thinking out loud, the words rolling unnoticed off of his tongue.

'Catherine… please hold on, I'm breaking apart. I think… I think I'm in love with you. Hold on for me, please. I'm begging you, even if you don't love me back, I just want you to be safe.' Nick said to the quiet room, the steady blip of the cardiac monitor the only noise in it. He went and sat by her side again, cradling her hand in his, against his chest. He placed his elbows on the bed and rested his head in his hands, the knitted cotton rough against his skin. He grabbed her hand again and held it, kissing the bandages on her wrist gently. He felt a pressure on the back of his hand.

'Catherine?' There was a silence and then:

'Nick?' Oh God… had she heard him?

'Catherine… oh God Catherine.' He whispered, pulling her into his arms and embracing her, rubbing small circles down her back. She shuddered against him and let his arms tighten around her back.

'Nick…' She sighed, breathing in his scent, losing herself in him. He held her tightly and gently stroked her hair, his fingers running through the tangles, smoothing out the knots. He let her go, reluctant to loose contact with her, as though she would break the moment he let go.

'Catherine… I thought… I thought…' the words caught in his throat and he couldn't go on, pain lacing it's way across his heart as he tried to say the words.

'I know.' She said quietly, her voice drowning out Nick's deep breaths.

'You know?' He asked her, taking her hand and slipping his hand over the tightly bandaged wrist.

'I heard everything Nick. Every word.' Nick bit back tears, afraid she'd push him away, want nothing to do with him anymore.

'And?' He breathed, fighting for control over his own body.

'I don't care. Nick… I think… I think I love you too… I…' She broke off and took a deep breath, tears welling up in her eyes. 'It sounds stupid… but I think when I jumped, I realised that though Lindsay was gone… you and my mom weren't… but Lindsay is… was my daughter.' Catherine finished with a moan of pain at the memory.

'Not was, is. Lindsay will always be your daughter… it doesn't matter that she's gone.' Nick said bravely, covering her hand and looking at her, seeing the tears roll from her icy blue eyes that usually held so much fire. He paused for a second, before sitting on the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him, holding her close. She began to cry freely, the tears dampening the front of his tee, darkening the material. Nick just held her in his arms as she cried tears for healing, and tears for grieving.

--

'Greg?' Sara's soft voice woke the young CSI from his light sleep, causing him to jerk awake, pain lancing down his leg. He drew in a gasp of air through gritted teeth, the pain nearly causing him to black out. 'Oh Greg, I'm so sorry!' she covered her mouth with her hand and gently stroked his cheek. Greg nodded tiredly and leaned back against Sara, the stitches in his knee pulling as he pushed back against her. Sara stroked his hair and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, fingers gently brushing his warm arm. He reached around and took her hand, biting his lip as pain flared in his tired muscles.

'It's fine Sara.' Greg said quietly, desperately scrabbling for her hand and squeezing tightly. She smiled and ran her fingers infinitely slowly across his forehead, sliding them into his hair. He turned towards Sara and hugged her awkwardly on the hard hospital bed. Sara pulled him onto her lap and supported him with her arm, rubbing circles around his shoulder blades, smoothing the thin hospital gown against his skin.

'Sara…?' He whispered, running his finger down her cheek, leaving lines of fire across her skin. She grinned and he felt his finger rise up. He slipped his finger onto her lips and pressed it against them. She blushed and grinned.

'Greg.' She breathed, the words slipping from behind his finger. He gave her a tired grin and titled his head up to meet hers. 'I love you.' She whispered before their lips touched.

--

Gil Grissom sat in the morgue with Doc Robbins, wincing as he pulled back the sheet from Lindsay's face. Grissom nodded confirmation. He pulled the scalpel from the tray and prepared to make the Y-shaped incision on Lindsay's torso. Grissom looked away.

'Do it.'


	10. Chapter 10

Grissom slowly turned his gaze back to Lindsay's sallow form on the cold autopsy table. He surveyed her blank, expressionless face, down her reddened, sliced neck, over her blood-tanned shoulders. Deep purple bruising lit up her shoulder blades like the 4th of July. It broke him up to see Lindsay like this. It hurt to see how it had affected Catherine. His team was like his family. _Was_ his family, and now one of them had been shot down. An attack like this felt personal to him, and he needed to be on edge now to catch the bastard who did it.

Grissom's eyes ran over a crescent shaped cut, barely visible underneath the heavy swollen patches.

'Doc, look at that,' Grissom murmured, leaning in for a better view.

Doc Robbins looked up from the incision he was making and followed Grissom's pointing finger.

'Looks like there's something in there,' Grissom said, grabbing a pair of tweezers from the tray and leaning over further. Expertly steadily, Grissom pushed the tips of the tweezers into the wound and gripped the small shard. Pulling it out, he turned it in the light, examining it carefully.

'A shard of nail,' the doctor said, also looking closely, 'A thumbnail, judging by the position of the wound.'

Grissom nodded, dropping the shard into a sample bag. 'I'll get Sara in to look at it.'

'Hmm, where _are_ all your team?'

'At the hospital.'

'Why aren't you there?

'They seemed to be fine without me,' Grissom replied, staring absently at Lindsay's face.

'What about Catherine? Doesn't she need you?'

'Nick,' Grissom said bluntly.

'And...Greg?'

'Sara.'

Doc Robbins nodded awkwardly.

A few moments of discomfited silence passed before Grissom flinched into action and moved towards the door. Once outside, Grissom fished in his pocket for his cell and flicked it open, scouring the contacts for Sara's number.

'Hello? Sara?'

Grissom could hear a breath travel down the line, like a short laugh, before he heard a reply. 'Yes?'

'I need you to come in and look at a piece of thumbnail that was in Lindsay's shoulder.'

There was a pause before a reply, 'Ok, I'll be there A.S.A.P.'

'Thanks,' Grissom replied, snapping the phone shut.

--

'Grissom wants me to look at some thumbnail,' Sara said, looking at the phone for a moment before slipping it back in her pocket and looking at Greg.

Greg nodded, 'You better go then. Save the day.'

Sara seemed to contemplate over Greg momentarily.

'I don't want to leave you...but it's Lindsay...'

Greg took Sara's hand in his and squeezed it gently. 'I'll be fine,' he reassured her, 'I'm sown up, got my nice bag of...blood here...' He looked up at the now half full bag hanging on the IV stand, narrowing his eyes slightly before turning back to Sara. 'I'm good.' He nodded again.

Sara lips curved into a brief smile before she bent over and kissed Greg's forehead gently.

'Lindsay needs you,' Greg told her.

'Okay, see you soon.'

Just as Sara was turning to leave, Greg grabbed her wrist gently.

'Hey, thanks for staying with me before, Sara.'

She nodded, 'That's alright.'

Biting her lip, she returned to the bedside, pressing a tender kiss to Greg's lips before leaving.

--

Nick watched Catherine as she slept peacefully, her hand in his own, held to his lips, his elbows propped on the side of the mattress. Warm tears were gathered in the bottom of his eyes, unwillingly to fall over the edge and tumble down his cheeks.

He didn't know why the tears were so persistent. Catherine was safe, she told him she loved him...well, might do...and he was happy now that he knew she wanted him there...so why did the tears keep coming?

Nick pressed his lips to the back of Catherine's hand, lingering there, watching his fellow CSI sleep. Of course, she was more than a CSI to him, so much more...but time would tell whether they would go further together.

--

Sara scrutinized the bit of thumbnail underneath the lab light, Grissom looking over her shoulder.

'So, how are you holding up?' Sara asked, feeling uncomfortable in the silence.

'I'm alright,' Grissom lied, contemplating the truth silently. He felt alone and lost. Catherine had tried to commit suicide, and he felt now like he'd been snatched from his safe zone and was being dangled over the edge of a cliff by a thread. Catherine was the confident one, the fiery one. It almost scared him to see her like that. And what made it worse was that his team seemed to have paired off and left him behind with the jars of dead creatures and plant that resided in his office.

He should have gone to see Catherine. He should have checked up on her, seen how she was doing. But it seemed that Nick had barred the door for him, being so close and emotionally attached to her. It was like he didn't even have time to put his foot in the door as it slammed shut. Obviously, it wasn't intentional, but it wasn't Grissom's place to invade upon them either.

Suddenly, he was snapped out of his silent reverie by Sara's voice.

'You ok Grissom?'

Grissom shook his head of the thoughts and looked down at Sara's concerned face. He nodded.

Sara turned back to the nail she had been studying uncertainly. 'Well...I've found some skin traces attached, I'm pretty sure they're not Lindsay's. So we might just have our killer.'

Grissom nodded and watched Sara move to one of the computer screens.

She began processing the sample. A few minutes later, Sara suddenly froze.

'Wh...'

'What is it Sara?'

'Um...I found...a match.'

'Who is it?'

'But...that's not...'

'What?' Grissom asked again, looked closer at the screen.

'W-Warrick Brown,' Sara stuttered.

**Erin's turn!!! Haha. Reviewwwwwws pwease! xxx**


	11. Chapter 11

Grissom shuffled over to where Sara was staring at the computer screen with an expression of disbelief.

'Warrick…? Are you sure?' He managed to get out, the words unsteady on his tongue as he felt himself succumbing to the shock. Warrick Brown? His friend and confidant that had died in his arms that night? He remembered the salty tang of blood as it pooled around him He could still feel the stickiness of it as he moved, still plagued by the nightmares that recurred occasionally, causing him to wake in a cold sweat with tears trickling down his cheeks.

'Gil? Are you okay?' He heard Sara's voice from far away as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. But the evidence doesn't lie, physically can't lie. Which was why he preferred it to people. He felt Sara's hand brush against his gently and turned to look at her.

'Yeah… I'm fine… fine…' He shook his head slightly, trying to shake the shock from his mind, and failing.

'Are you sure? You don't look okay.' Sara told him, peering into his blue eyes with her dark ones, making him feel decidedly dizzy.

'I'm fine Sara… honest to God.' He sat shakily down behind his desk and looked at the monitor again. Sara clicked up the information from the fingernail and sighed.

'Never have I seen a cleaner match…' She groaned and slumped onto his desk with her head in her hands.

'But how?' Grissom managed to get out, finally grasping the shock in both hands and shaking it hard. 'Warrick's dead! He died in my arms. I saw it myself! There is one way we could prove this though…' Grissom stood up, making his way to the door.

'And what is that?' Sara enquired impatiently. 'Because I want… need to get back to the hospital for…'

'Yes, for Greg I know.' Grissom snapped. 'But unfortunately, this can't wait.' Sara looked affronted, but quickly smothered it.

'Gil I'm so sorry… I had no idea. And what is your plan?' She reached out and took his hand. He flinched away from her.

'No… I should be sorry. It's just… don't worry. Anyway. We could exhumate Warrick… just to see if this thumbnail matches the body.' Grissom sighed sadly. 'I don't want to… but it's our only way to see… to find out…' Grissom swallowed and walked out, leaving Sara staring after him as he went.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Catherine stirred on the hospital blankets, pulling at her stitches as she raised her hand to stroke Nick's face, brushing away the tears with her fingertips. Nick raised his head and gave her a watery smile, stroking her hair with his fingers.

'Hey you.' She smiled wearily.

'Hey yourself.' She said quietly, struggling to sit up.

'No… it's okay.' Nick whispered as she relaxed again and took his hand, wincing as the bandages chafed her wrists.

'Why were you crying?' She asked him quietly, wiping the tears away with her fingertips and cupping his cheek.

'Because… I don't know how far we can go like this… or if you can love me the way I love you… Cath it hurts so bad. You're not going to be the same person any more. Lindsay was the thing that kept you sane… and now she's gone I don't know if I'll be good enough for you. I just…' Catherine placed a finger over his lips.

'Shh…' The effort made her weak but she kept it there, fighting the waves of pain that spiked through her every time she moved her wrist. Nick held her other hand tightly, stroking the back of it with his thumb.

'Cath…' He said quietly, around her finger.

'I said shh!' She reprimanded, her voice cracking as she broke down.

'Hey! Hey! It's okay!' He whispered, running his fingers through her hair as she started to cry.

'No it's not!' She sobbed. 'How could I put you through this! I mean… Trying to kill myself when I do have things to live for. Lindsay might be gone… but you aren't. Neither is my mom. But she's my daughter… I have you though… and I'm not the same person. None of the team ever will be. Nick… I… I…' Catherine trailed off as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Nick stood for a second, weighing out his chances before sitting on the bed beside her and wrapping an arm around her.

'I'm sorry I said all that stuff Cat…' He muttered, kissing the top of her head.

'Nick… you only said the truth.' She sighed and cuddled up against him, resting her head against his warm chest. He tightened the arm around her reflexively, pulling her closer to him.

'Cath…' She gently kissed his neck, placing her painful wrist over his heart.

'You don't have to say anything.'

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

The coffin lay on the autopsy table, the dull, mud stained wood dull under the harsh white light.

'Are you ready for this?' Doc Robbins asked, pulling the top off with a grimace. Grissom nodded, tight lipped and Sara looked away, jerking her head into a nod. Doc Robbins looked into the coffin as Grissom and Sara looked away, unable to see their friend's body. There was a silence.

'Uh Griss…?'

'Yeah…?'

'Come here.' Grissom walked around to where Doc Robbins was standing.

'Whoa!!' Grissom leapt backwards and stared at the coffin lying on the table with the brass handles tarnished and stained.

'What? Grissom! Tell me!' Sara asked him, her voice trembling with worry.

'Sara… come here a second.' He went and stood beside her, taking her hand and leading her to the coffin side.

'No… that's not… not possible!' she stammered, heart hammering as her gaze travelled over the coffin. The empty coffin.

**HAHAHAHA!!! Becky… this is for putting that horrible twist for me to deal with on the last chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Becky's chapter! Enjoy!**

Sara bit back tears as her fingernails gouged into the polished wooden casket.

'Wh...Why? Who? Who is sick enough to do this?!' Sara cried angrily. She knew as she said the words that she had had enough experience in crime to know that there _were _people who would do it...but their friend? Their colleague? Practically their brother? It just wasn't supposed to happen. It was too close for comfort.

Grissom wrapped his arm around Sara's shoulders, trying to comfort her, but truth be told, he felt no better. Warrick had been laid to rest peacefully, and that's all that Grissom wanted for him. Peace. After the video tape Warrick had left behind...this was just _unthinkable_. His heart ached painfully, his throat was dry, closing up. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. The only thing going through his head was finding Warrick and smashing the skull of the bastard who disrespected his best friend.

Grissom felt faint as the image of Warrick's discarded body in the desert, or a back street, flashed through his mind over and over and over. His grip tightened on Sara's shoulder.

Suddenly anger flared inside him and he walked away from Sara's side stiffly. He stood before the cold morgue hatches which hid the most recent cases. He breathed in deeply. It wasn't enough. He yelled out, slamming his fist into one of the hatches with a loud crack. The pain that flared felt like nothing. His throat ached, choking on tears.

Grissom stood back, glaring at the deep indent he'd created in the polished door.

'G-Greg, and Nick, and Catherine...they need to know Gil,' Sara whispered slowly.

'No...they need to recover...' Grissom answered.

Sara's eyes widened. 'You're seriously saying we should cut them out of this?! We can't!'

Grissom stood in silence, not turning to face her.

'Dust the coffin for prints,' he told her.

Sara shook her head in disbelief, 'You're joking. I'm telling them Griss. It's their right to know. They're a part of this.'

As she marched for the door, a powerful grip tightened round her wrist. Sara turned a full glare back on Grissom, trying to ignore the pain grinding on her wrist bones.

'They'll want to help...but they need to get better.'

'Gil Grissom. Let _go _of me.'

Grissom looked into her fiery eyes for a moment before stepping back, taken aback by his actions.

'I..I'm sorry...'

'Gil...it's gonna be alright, we'll find him,' Sara said, looking up into his downcast face. She pulled him into a hug. He felt frozen against her, not reciprocating the motion. Pulling away awkwardly, Sara stroked Grissom's arm before turning to leave again, rubbing her wrist on the way out.

Grissom turned back to the, until now, seemingly forgotten Doc Robbins. He met the doctor's worried gaze before averting his eyes.

'I should have a look at your hand, Gil.'

Grissom looked at his rapidly bruising, deformed fist. He couldn't move it. Stepping forward, he offered it to the doctor for examination.

--

Sara drove back to Desert Palm once more. The flashing neon lights of Las Vegas splashed over her car, illuminating the deep lines of worry on her face. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel nervously. She remembered Warrick's funeral. How Grissom had descended into tears. How everyone had sent him off with best wishes and love. That had been the memory she had been left with. The story was supposed to end then. But now...Warrick was being dishonoured. Dug out of his grave, his eternal peace shattered. She wanted to pull herself into a ball and just lay there, just lay...

Suddenly, headlights flared in her face and she was brought back to reality with the sounds of screeching rubber and blazing horns. Sara swerved, her heart hammering. Narrowly missing the sidewalk, she pulled back to the _right _side of the road. She swore under her breath, her sweaty palms gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Soon, she arrived at the hospital and shot out of the car, setting off the locking system as she made for the front doors. She speed walked through the medicinally clean corridors, towards the room where Greg resided. God, she needed to be in his arms right now. Promised that everything was going to be alright. She watched the floor rolling away beneath her feet, hands deep in her pockets. She tried to think up something to say, something to explain the situation. Warrick's been abducted and is being used to mock us? Not quite.

Eventually reaching the right room, she pushed open Greg's door. She took in a deep breath and looked up at the bed in the centre of the back wall. The..._empty_..._neatly_ _made_ bed. Sara's brows knitted together in confusion. She checked the room number. Definitely Greg's...

She quickly manoeuvred from the room and hunted down the nearest nurse.

'Hey, where's the patient from room 204?' Sara demanded.

The young nurse, a 'Christy Taylor,' Sara noted from the ID, studied Sara's face.

'You're...Sara Sidle?'

Sara narrowed her eyes and nodded nervously.

Christy looked her dead in the eyes, 'I'm sorry...'

Her whole face was full of sympathy.

Sara shifted her weight onto the other foot.

'What?'

'He...passed away...' Christy replied solemnly.

'What? He...passed_ away_?' Sara choked.

'I'm sorry...'

'No, this is a joke,' Sara laughed nervously, 'Tell me this is a joke!'

Christy didn't answer.

Sara stared at the nurse's downcast expression.

'You...you've got the wrong person...Greg isn't..._dead_. He can't be! He was fine!'

'There were...complications...' Christy explained, 'We couldn't save him...'

'No. No..._no_...' Sara whispered, tears shaking up her speech. She shook her head softly. She felt light-headed. Her muscles weakened. Her vision blurred. Black.

--

Greg stood there. His arms outstretched towards Sara, biting back laughter as he crept up behind her. Sara stood unaware before him, listening to the nurse, watching her solemn face. Christy was so believable!

Just as he was about to grab and tickle, Sara suddenly dropped to the floor.

His eyes met with Christy's.

'Ah...' Greg said. He pursed his lips. That wasn't quite intentional.

Christy crouched beside Sara and pressed her fingers to the collapsed CSI's neck.

'She's fainted.'

Greg tilted his head from side to side. He bit his lip as he laughed.

'She's gonna kill me when she wakes up...'

**Cute puppy dog eyes persuade you to press green button and leave words of commentatious value. XD**


	13. Chapter 13

'Shit.' Greg muttered, running his hands through his spiky hair with a long, drawn out sigh. 'That so was not meant to happen.' Christy laughed softly as she watched Greg ruffle his hair in sheer terror.

'She's not going too… oh… wait… she might,' Christy giggled, trying to smother them with the back if her hand. Greg smacked the top of her head with the back of his hand and grimaced.

'Um… she's still on the floor.' Greg knelt beside her and gently placed an arm around her back, pulling her into a sitting position, pulling at the stitches in his knees as he did so. He gently stroked her face with his fingers, flinching at the coolness of her skin against his warm palm. She stirred slightly in his arms and her dark eyes opened a fraction.

'Greg? Oh my God you're okay!' She started sobbing against his chest, her hands clinging to his jacket as if not believing he was real.

'Hey! It was just a joke. Cool down honey, you're okay, I'm okay.' He smoothed her hair with his fingers and rubbed tiny circles on her back with his fingertips.

'Wasn't much of a joke to me!' she said indignantly, clinging to his arms as he struggled to stand.

'And I'm so sorry!' He kissed her cheek gently and pulled her to her feet, wincing as he pulled at the stitches in his knees.

'It's okay. Just never, ever, ever do that to me again! You promise?'

'I promise. So why are you here anyway?' Sara shook her head briefly, tears cascading down her cheeks.

'I… can't… I just… later okay? Just… please… hold me and tell me it's okay because my world has just turned upside down again. Just tell me it's okay… I need to know that everything's going to be all right.'

'Sara… you're not making any sense. Just tell me what's happened.' Sara shook her head, tears coursing down her cheeks as she did so.

'I can't. Greg, please!' she was nearly hysterical and she felt as though her heart was tearing in two. The combination of what had happened to Warrick and Greg's fake death was taking its toll on her. Greg caught her as she fell into his arms, shaking with the sobs she'd been suppressing on the way to the hospital and most of the night. He held her tightly, whispering nonsense in her ear as she cried, stroking her hair and letting her cling to him.

'You okay now?' He whispered as she finished crying, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

'I think so… thank you.' She sniffed and let go of his arms, grabbing his hand, not losing contact for more than a second.

'So… are you going to tell me what happened?' He asked quietly, squeezing her hand gently.

'You, Catherine and Nick. Just… bear with me.' Greg nodded and placed an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders softly and flashing her his trademark million-dollar smile.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

'Grissom? Um… I don't think that this door was closed properly, but there's nothing in it, hasn't been since… well… Warrick.' Doc Robbins sat with Grissom, testing the functions of his now swollen left hand.

'I think I closed it for you…' Grissom gave him a sheepish smile, flexing his fingers slightly and wincing.

'I thought I told you… keep it still.'

'Sorry.' The Doc's gloved fingers gently examined the skin of Grissom's hand, the latex comfortable on his pain-fevered skin.

'Pretty extensive bruising and swelling. Those doors are hard you know.' The Doc let his gaze travel over Grissom as he finished examining his hand. 'I think you fractured your knuckle. I can do something about that.' He reached up and grabbed some surgical tape and a splint from the bench beside him. 'Hold still.' Grissom held his finger as straight as possible as the Doc splinted it, wincing as the tape tightened.

'Thanks Doc, I owe you one.' Grissom smiled and walked slowly out of the morgue, each step jarring his painful hand and making him grimace. Unbeknownst to Grissom, Doc Robbins stood and opened the door Grissom had almost-but-not-quite jammed shut. He let out a low whistle from between his teeth.

'Well I'll be damned…' He muttered, immediately reaching for his pager.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

'Shit guys… this is the hardest thing I've ever had to say to… anyone.' Sara took in a deep breath, surveying the people in front of her. Greg: His usually so cheerful face lacking its vivacity and animation, a tired look replacing everything else and an expression of pain every so often as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, pulling the stitches. Catherine: Her face pale from lack of blood, tear tracks running down her face and bandages around her wrists where the scars would never fade, her heart broken and being slowly pieced back together by Nick who was holding her hand so tightly. Sara began to wonder how much more bad news she could take. How this news would affect her. God how she wished Greg was standing next to her, holding her hand. But she had to tell them, and didn't want to be distracted, wouldn't be distracted by anything or anyone. Nick: His hand clasping Catherine's so tightly, his dark eyes brimming with tears as he absent-mindedly stroked her bloodstained bandages.

'And I mean it… we all knew Warrick. He was our best friend and I know we laid him to rest over a year ago… but now…' She took a deep breath in, her hands shaking on the back of the chair as she reasserted her grip on it. 'We had to exhume him… as his DNA was found in Lindsay's neck. His thumbnail.' She heard Catherine take a soft gasp of air, saw Nick squeeze her hand as tight as he could. 'And when we did… we found somebody had already beat us to it.' There was a collective gasp and she heard Nick's outraged voice ring out.

'That's just wrong! Warrick was our friend! Who would do that?' Sara raised a hand and they quietened down.

'I know.' She whispered, her voice catching in her throat. 'I know… believe me I know.' Her pager went off. She ignored it, turning back to Catherine, her eyes searching out the blondes and locking on them. 'I'm sorry Catherine… Sexual Assault…' Catherine let out a strangled gasp and Sara saw tears fall freely from her eyes. She pulled her pager from her belt. 'Damn.' She whispered, and felt, for the second time that day, her vision fade to black. She didn't feel herself hit the floor, or heard Greg's gasp or Nick shouting her name. All she heard was the rushing sound as her unconsciousness left her and saw blackness block out her vision.

**RAWR… click the button? Please? Will bake cookies for every word ^_^**


	14. Chapter 14

**Beckeh's.**

'Hello? Sara?'

'Saraaaa?'

'Hey, Sara, you there?'

'Look, she's waking up.'

Sara opened her eyes to slits, allowing the bright hospital lights to pour in. She could see her pupils crazily adjusting to the amount of light. She groaned.

'Sara, you alright?' she heard Greg ask. The speech seemed slurred to her ears.

She nodded slowly. Just making out the two dark figures above her, Sara tried to pick herself up.

'Whoa, Sara, slowly,' Nick murmured, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Sara shut her eyes tightly, trying to push out the aching sensation in her head.

'Warrick...they...they...'

'What is it?' Greg asked, gently brushing Sara's cheek with his finger. Nick noticed this action, but didn't say anything.

'They've found...Warrick,' Sara finished, searching for hands to help her up. Greg and Nick looked at each other. Catherine observed from the bed.

'Where?' Catherine asked. Tears were dried crisp on her cheeks from the news of Lindsay's attack.

'I don't know. The page said they'd found him...that was it.'

Suddenly the pager screamed again, announcing another message from the lab. Nick snatched it up off the floor and read through the words flitting across the mini screen.

'What now?' Nick muttered in exasperation.

'What?' Greg queried, squeezing Sara's shoulder as he looked at Nick.

Nick turned the screen on them.

'New Problem.' It read.

'What can possibly happen now? What more can _possibly _happen?' Greg said, staring at the two words.

Nick shrugged hopelessly. 'Lindsay, Warrick's DNA, Warrick's body...and now something else.'

Silence descended on the bright sanitized room. A cloud of despair seemingly blinding everything else.

'I'm going back to the lab,' Sara said suddenly, clambering to her feet, overcoming the sense of nausea and ignoring the black spots prickling her vision.

'I'm coming with then,' Greg replied.

Nick looked from the two nearing the door, to Catherine, and back.

'I'm staying with Cath, guys. Make sure you update us with anything new, ok?'

Sara and Greg nodded.

'Ok,' Nick looked at the two, as if reinforcing how important it was to contact him.

Nodding again briefly, Sara and Greg left the room on the way to the car park.

--

Grissom stared at the two new bodies.

'Wha...'

Doc Robbins was in the same state. Utterly speechless.

'...Well...this is Warrick...' the doctor pointed out, motioning to the furthest body. 'And...this is...'

At that moment, Greg and Sara ran into the morgue, almost panting.

'What's happened?' Greg asked, moving towards Grissom and the Doc, closely followed by Sara.

As soon as the young CSI's eyes fell on the two bodies, his mouth fell open, then began to open and close like a fish. He looked from one to the other and back again.

'That's...Warrick,' Greg confirmed.

Grissom nodded.

'But...if that's Lindsay...' Greg looked over at the occupied autopsy slab, 'then who's that?' He turned back to the body from the hatch next to Warrick's.

Sara's eyes clouded with tears, 'This is..._sick_.'

Suddenly, Doc Robbins' attention was caught by the Lindsay No.2's jaw line.

'Look at that,' he murmured, looking closer.

'What?' Grissom asked, trying to look where the doctor was pointing.

'There appears to be a...seam of some sort, along the jaw.'

Every pair of eyes in the room, bar the dead bodies, narrowed and moved closer to Doc Robbins' point of interest.

'Like the films?' Greg suggested, 'Mask?'

The doctor raised his eyebrows and shifted his crutch before placing his gloved fingers underneath the seam. He seemed to psych himself up a bit, unsure of what to expect on the other side of the latex face. Eventually, he began pulling, peeling.

Soon, a new person was introduced to the morgue.

'Who's that?' Sara said, staring into the face of a young girl, around the same age as Lindsay. Her head was shaved and deep scars ran over her scalp. Bruises bloomed from every available space, head and body. Greg looked at the girl's face, his face paling and eyes hooded.

'That is a very good question,' Grissom replied, '....Someone is mocking us.'

'It's got to be someone close to home,' Greg said slowly, almost choking over his words. He threw out his hand, gripping Grissom's shoulder for support. Grissom turned and narrowed his eyes. 'You alright Greg?'

Greg barely made any motion to show he'd heard Grissom. His stomach felt uneasy, the pain in his knees was emphasized 100 times over. He swayed slowly. His legs felt achy, tired, numb.

'Greg?' Grissom repeated.

Greg looked up into Grissom's eyes, making contact for just a few brief moments before his legs gave way and he collapsed into Grissom's arms. He remained conscious, but felt weak enough just to lie down and disappear into the floor. Grissom staggered back slightly, trying to equal Greg's weight with his own. Greg felt his cheeks burn scarlet as he realised he was face first in Grissom's shoulder, but he couldn't summon up the strength to pull himself up. Sara ran forward and helped Grissom pull Greg back to his legs. Once the young CSI was loosely balanced back on his feet Sara looked worriedly into his eyes, stroking the back of his neck carefully.

'I'm ok...sorry Grissom,' Greg offered weakly.

Grissom shook his head, 'It's a lot for us all to handle Greg.'

Once Doc Robbins had regained everyone's attention, he brought them to the scars on the victim's forehead.

'Look,' Doc Robbins said, gently pointing out the thick red lines lacing skin.

'Got...you,' Grissom murmured, identifying the rough words carved into the skin.

'Got you? What's that s'posed to mean?' Sara asked, looking up at Grissom, still keeping her hand secured on the small of Greg's back, rubbing small comforting circles.

Grissom shrugged. 'Run a DNA test. Find out who this is.'

**Commenteering is very much appreciated. :P**


	15. Chapter 15

Greg swayed slightly, the ground beneath his feet suddenly unstable, lurching and bucking as he struggled to keep his balance. He clung to Sara's waist, hand scrabbling for hers as the room rippled and wavered around him. Sara kept a hand on the small of his back and rubbed circles softly, reassuring the young CSI with her gentle touch. He squeezed her fingers, letting out a low, almost inaudible moan as waves of nausea pulsed through him.

'Hey, are you okay? Greg?' He heard Sara's voice as though it were from a distance, the words bleeding together into a meaningless jumble. He shook his head slowly; trying to make out the words, make them clearer.

'I… No…' He whispered, wrenching his hand from hers and bolting out of the sterile autopsy room, bile rising in his throat. Sara chanced a glance at Grissom, who nodded briefly, allowing her to run out after Greg. She ripped off her gloves, the thin latex splitting as she pulled them, dropping them unheeded to the floor. She nudged the door to the toilets open with the flat of her hand and edged in silently.

'Greg? Are you here?' She called softly, her voice smooth and gentle. Silence followed so she pushed the door of the only closed stall open, revealing the young CSI curled up in a ball on the floor, shaking as nausea pulsed through him. 'Greg…' she whispered, kneeling beside him and stroking his shoulder gently, encouraging the young blonde to uncoil. He sat up and began to retch, losing control of his stomach completely. Sara stroked the back of his neck as he emptied his stomach down the toilet. She pulled him close as he shook and wiped his face with a tissue from her pocket, her gentle touch soothing his already frayed nerves and rebelling stomach.

'At least you weren't the only one to lose your stomach.' Greg gave her a weak smile as he lay in her arms, too weak to even try and move.

'I guess. You okay?' She asked him, cradling him closely and squeezing his shoulders gently.

--------X--------

'Uh Grissom…' Mia said quietly as the sheet printed. He looked over to her and flashed her a quizzical look.

'Mia?' She soundlessly handed him the printout, watching as his brow wrinkled with confusion. 'How is that possible…?' The words fell from his lips, almost unheeded. He reached for his pager just as Greg and Sara walked past. He stepped out in front of them and waved the crumpled sheet in their faces.

'Whoa… No way!' Sara said, confusion registering on her face as she read and re-read the printout. Greg grabbed the sheet from Sara and read it quickly, skimming through it.

'Hang on… 13 alleles in common… that's every allele… does that mean… identical twins?' Grissom nodded gravely and took the sheet back.

'Catherine has some explaining to do.' Greg and Sara nodded.

'Just a lot.'

--------X--------

'Catherine!' Grissom stormed in, his face as black as thunder, waving a crumpled sheet of paper in her face. Nick grabbed the blondes' hand and squeezed it tightly, the gentle pressure telling her it was okay. 'You sure as hell need to explain this because we can't! What the hell are you playing at!'

'Explain what?' Nick's voice was quiet, yet commanding.

'This!' Grissom thrust the sheet of paper at the younger man, throwing himself angrily into a chair beside the bed. Nick paled visibly and handed the sheet gingerly to Catherine, who immediately blanched.

'I… What is this Grissom…?'

'This? This is your other daughter! Lying in our morgue! Next to Lindsay, and better than that, she's Lindsay's identical twin!' Catherine paled, the freckles on her face becoming more visible in the harsh white light.

'What happened to Kaitlin…?' Her voice trailed off as she realised what she'd said.

'Catherine… who's Kaitlin?' Nicks voice was gentle, coaxing the answer out of her, the soft pressure on her hand reassuring her.

'When I was pregnant… I was pregnant with twins. Lindsay and Kaitlin. Eddie and I were already in a rough patch and agreed that we couldn't cope with two. It sounds so awful… but we put Kaitlin in care. We never told Lindsay. I never told anyone. But I always remembered the baby I gave away. I used to imagine her every birthday, how she'd be… what she'd be doing.' Catherine sniffed. 'And now both my daughters are gone.' She broke down, tears cascading down her cheeks and silent sobs ripped her face. Nick hugged her tightly, rocking her gently back and forth as she cried.

'You did this! You did this to her!' Grissom recoiled.

'I had no idea… and Catherine… I'm sorry.' Catherine looked at him; tear streaked face sallow in the light. 'There's something else…' Catherine shook.

'I don't know how much more I can take Grissom.' She said honestly, her voice breaking.

'I'm sorry. Lindsay was pregnant. I'm so sorry.' He said as Catherine broke down.

**RAWR TBC by Becky :) Comments greatly appreciated XD**


	16. Chapter 16

**Beckeh's chapter =D**

Chapter 16

Nick squeezed Catherine tight as he felt her become still, the sobbing disintegrating.

'Cath?'

There was no reply, but simply her hand clutching the shoulder of Nick's shirt tightly in a fist. His eyes watered painfully. All these things shouldn't have happened. Surely it was just a bad dream? He hoped so, for Catherine's sake. He pressed his lips gently to her neck, holding her firmly, promising he wouldn't let go.

Grissom watched awkwardly. Why did he always have to be the bearer of bad news? He supposed it was just part of his job description, but it didn't matter. It always made him feel like it was his fault. Whatever it was that he would have to say. And now this was one of his team. He turned his gaze to his lap, turning his thumbs round and round each other slowly. Was it him or had his team being drifting away from him since this 'case' started? Sara and Greg...Nick and Catherine...and then him. Just him. Next thing he knew he would be stranded on a sinking boat in the middle of nowhere. He sighed heavily. Looking up, he found Nick staring at him sternly, almost scalding him with his eyes. He couldn't help it as his eyes stung with tears. Was this rejection? For something that wasn't his fault?

Gil Grissom never cried. And yet here he was, vision blurring. He stood abruptly, not wanting Nick, or Catherine for that matter, to see him crying. Crying sounded like an overstatement, but that was exactly what was happening, tears crawling down his cheek, turning his thin grey beard darker. He felt Nick's eyes following him from the room as he made his hasty exit towards somewhere where he could clean away the almost alien substance that was trickling from his eyes. Why did he have to be public enemy number one? It wasn't his fault...

Catherine pressed her face into Nick's neck, causing him to look back down at the woman buried in his arms. He suddenly felt like such an idiot. Why did he just punish Grissom? It wasn't like he had caused all this to happen. But it just..._really _irked him when Grissom came charging in, shouting at Catherine. She'd been through enough already. No need to yell at her. Especially when he came with the final straw. Lindsay's sister and Lindsay's pregnancy. Nick squeezed Catherine gently, hoping that somehow, Grissom would know how much he was sorry.

Catherine tried pushing further into him, hope against hope that the closer she got, the easier the pain would be. She tried losing herself in him, his smell, his warmth. Tried forgetting where she was. Tried removing herself from the harsh reality...but it seemed that the anchor tying her down was buried far deeper than she could shift. Her whole body heaved jerkily as her face became hot with tears again, completely saturating Nick's shoulder in the salty liquid.

'W-_why_?' she stuttered miserably.

'...I don't know Cath...but I'm here. Ok?' Nick told her gently, 'It's gonna be ok.'

--

Grissom ran the cold tap, staring at himself in the chipped hospital mirror while the sink filled up. All he could think of was that cold, rejecting stare that Nick had given him. It was all that filled his brain. How true it was that looks could kill, but this look...this look had tortured him, burnt him. It was worse than the physical pain of standing in fire. This was emotional burning. After Nick had looked up to him for so long, Grissom couldn't help feeling that he was now falling behind, no longer the role model. He was an idiot to have charged in on those two like that, demanding answers from Catherine when he already knew full well the state she was in. He cursed himself. He was tempted to throw a punch at the mirror, just to cause himself pain, if only just a little of what Catherine was feeling...but two shattered knuckles would do him no good.

What had happened to him recently? He felt like a whole different person. Ready to throw punches, ready to sacrifice his reputation with his colleagues...it was like someone with too much anger to bear, had stepped into his skin and begun filling him with rage. He didn't like it. It scared him. A lonesome, sad, lost tear trickled slowly from the corner of his eye. He stared at himself. Ashamed. And that was when the anger boiled inside him, shredding his nerves, shredding his being. Right now, he would die to bring Catherine's daughters back.

0.55 seconds later and his fist was buried deep in the glass before him, bloodied shards chinking together as they cascaded into the sink. He gasped, his chest heaving as he tried to breath in more air than possible. Pain shot down his arm, making his brain hurt, the nerves shocking it into action. He flexed his hand slowly as he pulled it away from the now bare wall. Maybe that temptation to screw up his other hand was a bit stronger than he thought...he groaned, the pain numbing everything else he was feeling.

He hissed from behind gritted teeth, pulling a long, thin shard of glass from between his knuckles. Drops of blood fell warm and sticky into the water pooling in the sink, causing red clouds to billow beneath the glittery, rippling surface. Dispensing the shard into the water, causing the blood to float away from the shiny glass, he started on the next piece, carefully plying it from his flesh. As the sickly sound of sharp glass slipping out of muscle filled his ears, he was suddenly aware of a presence at the open door to his left. His eyes shot round to meet Nick's wide stare.

The younger CSI opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't seem to get past the blood stained water and torn up state of Grissom's hand.

Grissom stood in uncomfortable silence, not sure where to look.

'Nick...' he muttered awkwardly.

'...What have you done?' Nick replied quietly, his brows knitting together. He moved forwards towards Grissom, the light reflecting off the twinkling shards in the hand shining in his eyes.

'I don't...I don't know Nick...' he murmured, acidy tears creeping back to haunt him.

The pair stood in silence, simply staring at each other. Grissom felt as if he could hardly breathe. The pain flooded every inch of him...and now Nick could see him for the true state he was in.

'Why?' Nick uttered.

Grissom stood in silence for a moment before finally deciding to tell someone.

'I just brought Catherine a helping of some of the worst news of her life, and shouted at her for it. I get thrown back by you, _because _of it! Everyone's moving away from me. You've got Catherine. Sara's got Greg. Who've I got?! This is hard for me as well, and I'm just left alone, out of the way, just me, to brood in the darkness and run tests and bring bad news and make everyone hate me...and I can't FUCKING take it!'

Nick flinched back as Grissom swore at the top of his voice. He'd never heard Grissom swear. His boss was always cool, collected, and if not, just got a bit impatient with people...and now he was swearing and yelling all of his feelings out to him. Where was the usual Grissom? The Grissom that would be the one to help others feel better by staying cool? Nick felt panicky. He felt unsafe around this strange new person.

Grissom suddenly felt as if he'd been taken off the boil. His eyelids fell slack and he looked at the seemingly terrified CSI stood in front of him, his own eyes filled with fear. This wasn't right. This wasn't him.

'I'm..._sorry_, Nick...' he said, breathing heavily.

Nick nodded shakily, reminding Grissom of how the younger Nick had been after having a gun pointed in his face almost nine years ago.

'I don't know...who I _am_ right now...'

'Well,' Nick said, a shaky laugh echoing from his lips, 'I came to apologize...to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.'

A painful smile weakly lifted the corners of Grissom's mouth. 'Too late.'

--

Greg slowly sipped the cup of steaming Hawaiian Blue in front of him. After being guided back to the lunch area, Sara had concocted it for him and sat him down, telling him to take a break. She'd rubbed his back gently, placing a kiss on his forehead before heading after Grissom. Now he sat here alone, Greg couldn't quite understand why he'd lost his stomach back there...he'd seen and been through worse...and he didn't even know who that girl was at that point...and yet he'd felt so sickened. It was strange...but at least he had his Hawaiian Blue. It was a true godsend in times of trouble. He already felt a bit brighter. He breathed in the sweet scent, letting his eyes close gently.

'Hey Sanders,' Archie greeted him with a smile, walking towards the kettle.

Greg opened his eyes again to meet Archie's.

'Oh, hey,' he murmured, pulling up his posture.

'You look awful.'

Greg laughed hollowly. 'Thanks.'

'Don't mention it,' Archie replied, a cheeky smile spread over his face. 'So, who's died?'

Greg stared at him sternly. 'Don't go there.'

'Don't tell me someone's actually died?' Archie's smile disintegrated.

Greg just gave him a look to reiterate not to go there.

Archie slumped back against the side and stared into the distance. 'I always wondered when I would say that and someone would actually have died...'

Greg nodded shortly. 'Well, that time is now.'

'Sorry, man,' Archie replied, slowly turning back to the kettle.

'It's Catherine you should be saying that to,' Greg grimaced, remembering the situation at hand.

'Catherine? Why?'

'I'm not sure if I'm the one that should be saying it...or whether I should be saying it at all...but Lindsay was...murdered. And it turns out she had a twin. She's lying in the morgue as well.'

'Oh _no_,' Archie murmured, immediately abandoning the coffee again, '_Both_ Catherine's daughters? That's horrible...'

Greg nodded, immediately feeling like he'd breached Catherine's privacy, and hoping that she already knew. He didn't want to get in trouble for telling Archie before Catherine herself knew. Awkward silence passed. It felt like a fitting situation for tumbleweed to roll by. Greg stared into the deep coloured coffee inside his mug; Archie stared into the distance again.

--

Grissom grimaced as Nick pulled the remaining shards of mirror from his knuckle with a pair of tweezers from the forensics kit. He had refused to see a doctor. He didn't want to be stitched up or fussed around. This wasn't to be fixed up, no matter how much Nick complained. This was his punishment for how he had acted towards Catherine. Distracting himself, he quickly drained the bloodied water from the sink while Nick worked, picking out the pieces of mirror from the basin and putting them on the side. Finishing his small job, he looked up; the bright white lights overhead stinging his tired eyes as he looked away from the source of pain.

'You can be an idiot sometimes Grissom,' Nick said, letting out a heavy breath as he tried to grasp a tiny piece of mirror buried between the knuckles.

'Catherine would never want you to do this. Even after what you did. She's gonna be pissed at you.'

Grissom nodded, accepting his fate. He didn't understand what had gotten in to him recently, but he seemed to want to punish himself for every little thing.

Finishing up, Nick cleaned off the tweezers, cleaned up the hand and grabbed a roll of bandage that he'd nabbed from the nearest supply closet. He had to do something. Grissom refused professional help.

He began wrapping it tightly around Grissom's hand, the scarlet blood already seeping through the thin layers. Winding it round and round, covering the knuckles and the cuts littering the back of the hand, Nick tied it off and stood back.

'You look great, Grissom,' he smiled lightly, studying the splint on one hand and the new bandage on the other.

'Thank you,' Grissom nodded, 'For fixing me up.'

Nick looked up into Grissom's face, seemingly contemplating. Before Grissom could complain, he was pulled into a brief hug.

Nick patted his back firmly with a smile. 'You're still an idiot.'

He pulled away, amused by the strange look on Grissom's face.

'Yes, I hugged you...don't look so surprised!'

Nick gathered up the kit quickly and left.

**Reviews? Pwease? *smiles sweetly***


	17. Chapter 17

If you don't review this chapter you'll never find out who killed Lindsay and why! We're aiming for five reviews for this chapter so come on… it's up to you to keep this story going or I'll put a really nasty cliff-hanger and you'll never know… *evil grin*

Grissom stood, swaying slightly as he watched the younger man leave the bathroom, a small bag clutched in one hand. The sink was liberally splattered with blood, rivulets rolling down the smooth white porcelain. He gingerly lifted his bandaged hand and slid his phone stiffly from his pocket, pulling at the thin cuts racing across his skin. He slowly scrolled through his contacts, coming to rest at Sofia's number, hitting the call button as waves of agony spiked across his hand.

'Hey, could you… this is embarrassing, but could you pick me up from the hospital? I busted my other hand…' He felt a flush creep up his neck as he told her, waiting impatiently for her answer.

'Oh… sure, no problem Grissom. Be there as soon as I can.' He smiled softly and slid the phone closed, manoeuvring it with difficulty into his pocket. He closed his eyes for a second and breathed shallowly, riding out the waves of pain that crashed through him. He took a deep breath in through his teeth, raising his bleeding hand cautiously to his face and running the bandage down his sweaty cheeks. He was pale, the pain draining him both physically and emotionally as he moved, spikes of pain lancing the entire way down his right side. He swayed slightly and staggered, gripping the sink as he tried to regain his balance. Giving up on trying to remain standing, he slid down against the wall and leaned back against it, pulling his knees up to his chest as pain shocked through him. He rested his forehead against his knees and sighed, feeling the blood dampening the bandage on his hand. He was unaware of how much time had passed until a tall blonde poked her head round the door and stepped inside, casting a worried glance in his direction.

'Griss?' She asked, kneeling beside him and gently touching his hand, making him wince. 'Sorry.' Grissom looked at her, images running through his mind. Catherine was his oldest friend… he could remember her from when she and Eddie had just got together. He could remember her telling him she was pregnant… how happy she'd been. But that was the old Catherine… the new Catherine was a stranger in her place, not needing of her oldest friends help. He felt helpless, like the team would break apart and he'd be there to pick up the pieces by himself. But he didn't think he could, not this time.

'Griss?' Sofia asked him again, her voice a little louder. 'Are you okay?' She placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face so that he was looking at her. He shook his head sadly and felt a tear jerk loose from his eyes. 'Whoa… Griss you never cry…'

'I know.' He sniffed and made to wipe his eyes with his bandaged hand, but cried out before he could. She wiped his eyes with a tissue from the packet in her pocket and placed her hands on his wrists, pulling him up.

'I can see why you wanted a lift.' She flashed him a cheeky grin and walked out, hoping the older criminalist would follow her. He hurried behind her and grabbed her hand, pain spiking down his wrists from the fresh cuts and the not-so-fresh fractured knuckle on his other hand.

'You okay?' She asked him, concerned at his clinginess.

'No…' He muttered, releasing her hand, abashed. She appeared to consider for a second, but hugged him tightly; feeling him start to shake with sobs.

'It's okay…' She whispered, rubbing his back.

**oOo**

Sara raced into the lab, skidding on the polished floor until she slid into the break room, staggering wildly as she tried to regain her balance.

'Greg… oh, hey Archie.' She smiled at the lanky AV technician and grabbed the table, struggling to not face plant the floor. Greg jumped up and grabbed her around the waist, holding her steady until she finished nearly-but-not-quite-falling. 'Thanks. We have to work the scene… ready?' She swallowed with difficulty and walked out slowly, dragging her feet, wanting anything but to process the scene of Lindsay's death. Greg walked beside her, silence falling between them as the full force of what had happened sunk in. He clicked the key, the central locking of her car opening with a dull clunk. Embarrassed, she slid into it, shielding her eyes and trying to block out the nagging voice in her mind that said _this is wrong, why does this happen. It's a dream, you don't have to._ She mentally shook herself and slipped her sweaty hands onto the steering wheel.

'Ready?' She looked at Greg sideways, a quick glance that reassured him. He nodded, tight lipped and placed a hand on her leg, the soft pressure making her feel better.

'Ready.'

**oOo**

Greg knelt on the carpeted floor of Catherine's room, his nose less than an inch from the carpet as he spotted a stray hair that lay obscenely on it. It wasn't Catherine's or Lindsay's, that was certain. It was black, a short black hair that showed up darkly against the creamy white of the carpet.

'Got something?' Sara called, collecting a sample of the blood pool.

'Yeah… a hair… Not Catherine's or Lindsay's either.' Sara walked towards him and examined the hair as it was left snug between the twin arms of the slim tweezers grasped loosely in Greg's hand.

'I see… and it doesn't look like Warrick's either. We might finally have a break in the case.' Sara muttered; squinting at the fibre held between the arms of the tweezers.

'Finally.' The younger CSI sighed and grinned happily, excited by the prospect of a break in this emotionally shattering case.

'Yeah.' Sara agreed amicably, a gap-toothed grin breaking out on her face as Greg slipped the hair into a brown envelope and slipped the envelope into the pocket of his forensics vest. Sara walked over to the bed and her gaze slid onto a smudge in the blood pool. A fingerprint sized and shaped smudge.

'Whoa!! Greg! I have a fingerprint!' She shouted, grabbing a sticky pad in order to collect it. Greg scooted over and felt his million dollar smile break apart over his features.

'Sweet! Sara this could break this wide open.' He told her, kissing her on the cheek.

'I know.' She said modestly, collecting the precious evidence quickly and efficiently, slipping it into the pocket of her vest the way Greg did. She flashed a quick smile in his direction and roved her eyes over the crime scene one more time.

'Nothing else?' She asked, stretching her legs out after three hours of processing the same room. 'Doing the house can wait. I think the perpetrator came in the window, so the downstairs is out. Lets get back.' She told him, drifting away from the room and towards the slowly rising sun outside.

**oOo**

Sofia kept glancing at Grissom as he sat, stock still, staring out of the windscreen at the world passing by in a blur. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel softly, trying to break up the heavily awkward silence threatening to drop over them. She chanced a glance at him again and saw that tears were rolling down his face, dropping onto his bandaged hand, mingling with the blood.

'Griss?' she asked softly, one finger gingerly stroking the rough bandage.

'Yeah?' He swallowed thickly, trying to clear his throat.

'Nick didn't do this bandage right… or stitch you up… want me to have a look?' She asked quietly, her voice coaxing him to speak, to be heard.

'I… please.' He faltered, letting the pain dominate his thoughts. Sofia pulled up at the PD a few moments later and led him to his office, sitting him down and scouting around for the first aid kit.

'It's in the first drawer of my desk.' He said weakly, closing his eyes and focussing on just breathing in and out. She nodded and removed the plastic box from its place, opening it out so that she could see what was inside. A surette of morphine, suture needles and surgical thread, a bandage, anti-bacterial wipes, steri-strips and tweezers to name but a few items. She collected the suture needle and thread and an anti-bacterial wipe; slowly unwrapping the blood stained bandage.

'Breathe in, deeply.' She told him as she pulled it away, the congealing blood catching in the soft cotton pad. He let out a low hiss of pain that Sofia only just heard and stiffened slightly. 'I'm sorry.' She muttered, smoothing his arm gently with her fingers. She quickly jabbed the needle into the back of his hand, earning a hurt glare from Grissom and a deep intake of breath. She cast him an apologetic look and began cleaning his wounds with an anti-bacterial wipe as gently as she could, although she was highly aware of the occasional rushed intake of breath from Grissom. She stitched up the many deep, obscene cuts on the back of his hand, ignoring the sounds of the corridor outside. When she was done redressing his hand, he was shivering and sweat had formed on his forehead. Sofia peered into his face as she snapped the kit shut and made a mental note to replace everything she used before another emergency reared its ugly head.

'You'll be fine Gil, just take it easy.' She told him, shoving the kit unceremoniously into the drawer and slamming it shut.

'Thank you Sofia… Thank you a lot.' He managed to get out, though the haze of drugs made it difficult to think until something suddenly snapped into place. He struggled to stand, hampered by the weakness in his legs due to shock, exhaustion and pain.

'Gil! Gil, listen to me! You're okay, relax, nothing's wrong.'

'No! No there is something wrong! Sofia listen to me! I think I know who killed Lindsay!'

**Remember… five reviews or no more chapters. And a cookie obviously. Becky next if we get enough review *yes, we're needy***


	18. Chapter 18

_**Ok, well, three reviews was better than nothing. :/ here's the next chapter.**_

18.

Greg tapped the lab printer impatiently, willing it to give him the results already. It seemed that today it was working slower than usual. In spite maybe, just because they were so close to finding Lindsay's killer. Being awkward because the world was hanging in a delicate balance that could tip either way, at any moment. Greg ran his hand roughly through his highlighted spikes of hair and tapped a bit more.

'Come on...' he murmured under his breath.

Sara sat in the print lab, scanning in the sacred fingerprint and putting it through AFIS. Butterflies raged in her stomach as the hundreds of thousands of registered prints flashed past, no match so far. She shut her eyes tight and prayed, prayed to anyone that would listen. Prayed to God, Buddha, Mohammed, Guru Nanak...hell, even prayed to Grissom. Who cares?

'Come on...' she murmured under her breath.

Catherine sat solitary in her hospital bed, the steady drip of the IV fluids threatening to drive her insane. She glanced over at Nick, asleep in the chair beside the bed. How could he possibly sleep at a time like this? That text from Greg on Nick's phone had sent Catherine off on a high. She was itching to go to the lab and watch the results churn out of the machine. Grab them as soon as they came out. Find out who killed her daughters. She held the phone tightly in her scarred hand, willing another text to come through. One with answers.

'Come on...' she murmured under her breath.

Nick suddenly blinked awake, aware of a pair of eyes burning into him. He looked back at Catherine sleepily as she showed him the text message, urgency blatant in her wide eyes. He immediately sat himself upright from his slouched position. He saw tears forming in Catherine's eyes. He moved forward and nudged onto her bed, embracing her in his arms. He prayed that Greg would find all the evidence that would allow them to nail whoever did this to Catherine. _His _Catherine.

'Come on...' he murmured under his breath.

--

'GREG!' Sara yelled from the print lab, hoping her voice would carry over to the DNA lab. She snatched the printout of the results and rushed over to Greg, her palms sweaty, panic filling her up. Confusion.

'What is it?' Greg asked, seeing the panic etched all over Sara's face.

'W-What do the hair results say?'

Greg snatched them out of the printer wheels and skimmed over the page.

'It's..._cat _hair...'

'He's got a cat...' Sara murmured, throwing her sheet in front of Greg's face.

'What? How's this possible?'

'GREG. I know who did it!' Grissom announced, charging into the lab with a stormy expression. He was ignoring the pain that had flared up in his hands, and ignoring the side effects that the drugs were imposing on him.

'You do?' Greg asked confusedly, 'How?'

'Doesn't matter. Show me your results.'

'How do you know we have results? Or even evidence for that matter?'

'DOESN'T MATTER, GREG. RESULTS. NOW!'

Greg flinched away and quickly passed both sheets to Grissom before he exploded. Grissom's jaw clenched and he nodded tightly. Leaving a trail of flying papers as he stormed out and hit the corner of a table carrying stacks of papers, Grissom clenched his fists, ignoring the fact that they were both bust up and he was probably fracturing them even more. He charged through the corridors, one location in mind.

Greg let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding and looked up at Sara.

'I think we'd all like to hear his explanation for this,' Greg growled. He'd never felt this angry in his LIFE. He leapt up and took Sara's arm, soon in pursuit of Grissom's rage trail.

--

'HODGES. GET YOURSELF OUT HERE. RIGHT. NOW.' Grissom yelled angrily.

Soon, David Hodges was stood in shock in the presence of a volcanic Gil Grissom.

'What is it?'

Grissom clenched his jaw tight and shook his head. He felt _so _angry. His eye twitched.

'EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!'

Grissom threw the crumpled sheets in Hodges face.

'AND GIVE ME A GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T KNOCK YOUR HEAD FROM YOUR NECK, RIGHT NOW.'

Hodges looked down at the pages with only confusion etched on his face.

'What is this?'

'Don't you bloody ask me what this is. This is your _fingerprint _and your _cat's hair_ from the _crime scene_.'

'You're...Grissom...are you trying to tell me you think_ I_ killed Lindsay?'

Grissom simply gave Hodges a fiery glare.

'Why?! Why would I do that?!'

'You tell me,' Grissom growled.

Hodges' mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say.

'I...I...I didn't _kill _her,' he choked.

Grissom's jaw clenched angrily.

It was then that Greg and Sara arrived.

'Hodges you _bastard_!' Greg whispered viciously. He felt so, _so _angry...like nothing before.

Hodges mouth started working again. 'I _didn't _kill her!'

'EVIDENCE, Hodges! It doesn't _lie!_'

Greg charged forward and planted his clenched fist into Hodges' jaw, causing the trace evidence analyst to stumble backwards, his hand clasped over the newly developing bruise, gasping for air.

Greg suddenly turned back to Sara.

'That's...never _happened _before...'

Sara took his arm and guided him back from the punch site.

'He deserved it Greg. Don't even think about apologizing.'

Greg nodded briefly.

'Take him out of here Griss. Before I _kill him_...' Greg hissed the last two words at Hodges.

'I don't think he's safe in anyone's hands, Greg. Especially not mine.'

Sara pondered for a moment. 'Um...I...I'll take him.'

Grissom looked at Sara, shocked. How could she want to take him? This was a rape and murder case. The thing that Sara got so very emotional about.

'Don't worry, Grissom. I won't kill him on the way to interrogation. I'll try not to anyway.' Sara gave Hodges a fake sweet smile.

Hodges just looked completely dumbstruck as he was guided away from his lab. He looked over his shoulder, gaping at Grissom as if to say that he felt betrayed. Betrayed that Grissom would suspect _him _of murdering Lindsay.

But Grissom took none of it. He stood. Rock steady. Expression of burning iron. Never to trust a suck-up like Hodges again.

_**Review? Just, please.**_


	19. Chapter 19

Please review!! It's been ages since we got one… and we really appreciate them. So make our day? Pwease?

Sara led the unresisting Hodges down the tiled corridor, her fingernails digging into the naked flesh of his forearm. He flinched from her scorching gaze and stared at the floor, concentrating on the sweat pouring down his face.

'Sara… you can't seriously think that I-' He looked appealingly at her until he was shot down by her burning glare.

'Hodges, right now I don't know what to think. But I know that the evidence never lies. It can be fabricated and compromised but it can never lie. Suspects can, but I tend to believe the evidence. Specifically, the evidence that places you at the crime scene where Catherine's daughter was murdered.' Sara spat at him, glaring until he looked away, panicking.

'Sara… you know me!'

'I thought I did. You better tell the truth in there Hodges.' She opened the door and pushed him roughly inside. Hodges stared at her, bewildered as Jim Brass forced him to sit down, making the younger analyst stare fixedly at the empty chair opposite him. Sara slumped against the wall, breathing heavily until she had the strength to stand and seek out Greg. She needed him right now to hold her and tell her everything was okay. She needed him so much.

Catherine rested her head on Nick's shoulder, letting his fingers roam up and down her arm in gentle spirals. She gripped his other hand in her own and felt the reassuring pressure as he squeezed it tightly.

'You holding on baby?' He asked softly, his Texan accent the most pronounced she had ever heard it in all the years of knowing him.

'I guess…' She sighed sadly and leaned back until her head rested loosely on his chest and his arm was wrapped around her waist. She let her longish blonde hair fall over her face in a bid to hide the tears threatening to fall from his concerned gaze. He leaned until his back was resting against the headboard of the small hospital bed and tightened his grip on her waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of her hips beneath the thin hospital gown that drowned her slim form. She turned slightly so that she was almost curled up against him, her hand resting gently on his chest just above his heart; she felt his heart beating strong and steady and relaxed slightly, losing herself in the rhythm, reassuring herself by being close to him. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt Nick stir behind her, arranging himself into a more comfortable position for her to sleep against.

'I'll let you know if anything else comes through.' He murmured, his breath tickling the back of her neck softly as he spoke.

'Thank you.' Getting the words out was a struggle; everything seemed to be bleeding into one, Nick's warmth against her seemed distant, and the sounds melted together as she felt unconsciousness claim her. Nick watched Catherine's eyes close and her breathing become the steady rhythm he recognised as sleep. He softly brushed the hair out of her face and the tears that had threatened to fall from just below her eyes. He stroked her arm gently and placed the phone against his hip so he would be aware of any vibration it might make as another message came through. She'd been through enough to last a lifetime. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, mirroring her expression.

'No problem.' He whispered softly as sleep claimed him too.

Grissom sat alone in his office, nursing his fractured hand as a throbbing replaced the previous dull ache. He really should go and get some pain medication but right now, moving, thinking, hell, even breathing was a huge effort of will. He heard the door click open and looked bleakly over to see who had interrupted his turmoil of thoughts and emotions. Sofia peered into the darkened room and edged around the door.

'Griss? The lights were off I was wondering if you were okay…' She trailed to a halt and started to back out.

'No, stay.' He asked her, begged her. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, showing the world very clearly that; as Grissom's door was usually open, not to come in.

'Hey, what's wrong?' She asked gently as he resumed his staring at his bandaged hands.

'In answer to your first question: no, I am not okay. In answer to your second question: do you really want to know?'

'Never answer a question with a question.' She teased, earning a tired smile from him. 'But seriously. I care, so tell me.' She sat down in front of him and patiently waited for him to begin.

'Sure?' She nodded the affirmative and told her. About Lindsay, Catherine, Warrick, Hodges, his team drifting apart, how he'd busted both hands, Lindsay's twin, the attempted suicide of his closest friend and everything leading up to his current state of mood. Sofia sat quietly and listened, occasionally placing a hand over his own, especially when he started to mention Catherine's attempted suicide. He talked until his throat was dry and his head ached, until the throbbing had intensified into actual pain and the sun had risen over Nevada. So much had happened in one day, twenty-four hours had shaken the entire PD up until they didn't know which way was up or down any more; never had their been a worse day for anyone on the graveyard shift on LVPD's CSI team. Grissom drew in a long shaky breath when he had finished and dropped his gaze once again to his fingers. Sofia let out a low whistle through her teeth and stared at the scratched top of the desk. Grissom stood and Sofia stood a second after, dithering until she reached forwards and embraced him. She was shorter, so her arms went around his back and her fingers laced together. He, slightly surprised, reciprocated the embrace and hugged her back, feeling the gentle pressure on his back as she squeezed softly. When they broke apart, Grissom felt the pain return and grimaced.

'Pain?' She asked immediately, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a blister pack of paracetamol. He nodded gratefully and took the pack, popping two pills out and swallowing them with a gulp of cold coffee. She took the pack back silently and slipped them into her jacket pocket.

'Griss… you've been through so much in twenty-four hours… how are you still standing?' she asked tiredly. His brows knitted together as he thought the question through.

'I don't… know…' He answered slowly, as if expecting a reaction from her. She smiled sadly and kissed his cheek, lips only just brushing the skin.

'Get some sleep.' And then she was gone, as though she'd never been there in the first place. Grissom stared at the floor, everything slightly surreal to him and decided, for maybe the second or third time in his life, to take somebody's advice.

Sara held Greg tightly, as though she never wanted to let him go, and relaxed as his natural warmth wormed its way into her. Sadly, slowly, she broke away from him, wanting anything but to leave the protective encirclement of his arms. She jerked her head in the direction of the interrogation room and grimaced, looking at her watch.

'Reckon we should let him sweat so I can get some sleep?' She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Greg nodded.

'Mmm… sleep sounds good to me right now. Ow!' He yelped as he pressed his hand against the wall with more force than he wanted to.

'Let me see.' She looked at his bruised hand and gingerly turned it over, examining it in the fluorescent PD lights. 'Nasty.'

'I got it doing a good thing.' He said petulantly, his knees starting to be painful again.

'You did, and you need sleep way more than I do. Go home, get some rest, and the be back here in three hours for the interrogation…' She yawned again.

'You need sleep too.' He pointed out, rubbing a tired hand over his face. 'Could we both just go back to yours? It's closer and we can be back here at the same time too.' Sara nodded, too tired to disagree.

'Fine, but you're sleeping in the bedroom, I'll take the spare room or the couch.'

'No way Sara. It's your house.'

'You're hurt, I'm not. You're more tired than me.' She had that steady look on her face that meant he'd never win.

'Fine. I'm too tired to care. Lead the way.' She grinned and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling his tired form out of the door and into the sunlight.

Inside the interrogation room, David Hodges sat with a coy smile on his lips, revelling in the destruction of Catherine's life he had caused and would further cause with his confession.

**Review? Please? Just one? **


	20. Chapter 20

**Interrogation :O**

Hodges slouched back in the cold metal chair. He stared at his clasped hands on the table top, a faint smirk picking at the corners of his mouth.

'You better have a damn good explanation for this Hodges. And when I say damn good, I mean damn good.' Brass couldn't bring himself to sit down, so he paced up and down the room a couple times before gripping his hands tightly on the back of the chair opposite Hodges, turning his knuckles white. 'Start talking,' he growled.

Hodges' smirk grew and he laughed silently, shaking his head.

'What's so funny?'

'Oh, just you Jim.'

Brass gritted his teeth.

Hodges looked up. 'You wanna know why I did it?'

'Well, that's what we're all here for,' Brass snarled, 'Git.' He added.

'Oi. That's not gonna make me cooperative,' Hodges remarked, tutting slightly.

'Just get on with it!'

'Catherine, Catherine...Catherine. It's all her fault. Y'know, if she'd just noticed me once in a while...given me more than a brief look...things could have been very different. But as it was, she never gave me a speck of attention. Her fault.'

Brass narrowed his eyes, 'You did all this, because you had a crush on her?' he spat.

'No, no, no,' Hodges looked seriously into Brass' eyes, 'I was in love with her.' And the smirk was planted back on his face.

'You sicken me.'

Hodges shrugged carelessly.

'But what does this even have to do with Lindsay?'

'Ehhh...she just happened to be the weakest point to strike...she wasn't half bad either...' Hodges said, raising his eyebrows, reminiscing.

Brass felt sick. His eye twitched, his teeth gritted. He glared disgustedly.

'And Kaitlin?'

'Second blow for luck?' Hodges grinned dangerously.

'Warrick?'

'Because...it was a fun touch?'

Brass cracked. Splintered. Snapped. 'Because it was a fucking fun touch? You bastard.'

It took every ounce of his restraint to stop himself from picking up the chair grasped under his hands and smashing it into Hodges' head.

'You thought it was a fucking_ fun touch, _to dig up, and destroy Warrick Brown's peace? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? THERE IS A POINT TO THE LETTERS R.I.P!' Brass roared.

Hodges didn't move away, didn't even flinch, as the captain began to shout at him.

'I MEAN. WHAT THE HELL. I REALISE YOU'VE BEEN A GIT FROM THE START. BUT THIS? DID YOU TURN FUCKING INSANE OVER NIGHT?!'

Hodges flashed another dangerous grin.

Brass could barely control himself. He was doing everything in his power not to seriously hurt the man opposite him. No matter how much he wanted to right now, no matter how much he wanted to kill David Hodges...he had to stop himself.

--

Nick Stokes stormed through the corridors, towards interrogation. He felt awful for leaving Catherine with the knowledge of who did it, but not being able to bring her. She couldn't be here though. She needed to stay in hospital. He knew that everyone would have murderous intentions towards David Hodges right now, but Catherine didn't need to get herself hurt again. He knew she would only become worse for just setting eyes on him.

As he stepped into the observation room behind the interrogation room, he didn't think he'd ever seen a room of angrier people. Grissom, Sophia, Mia, Archie, and a small collection of other lab techs, had completely abandoned their work to see this. And they were all fuming.

'What's happening?' Nick asked quickly.

'He dug up Warrick...for _fun_,' Grissom hissed, angry hot tears trembling down his cheeks as he stared through into the interrogation room.

'_What?!_'

Nick charged forward and looked through the one way glass. He could see Brass, erupting like a volcano, and Hodges, simply _sat_ there, a smirk plastered on his face.

'What the hell is wrong with that guy?' Nick growled. He felt so much anger and emotion building inside him. Warrick. Warrick, one of his best friends. Had been dug up, just for the amusement and games of a sick man. Nick could feel his own brand of angry tears welling.

'Shit...' he swore, clenching his fists tight, watching Hodges reply sadistically and carelessly to Brass' every question.

A continuous stream of words and images poured through his mind. Catherine, Warrick, Lindsay, love, hate, murder, a simple gun shot...right through Hodges' brain...

--

Catherine sat uncomfortably alone in the hospital bed, clutching and un-clutching the bed sheets in her fists nervously. She couldn't do _anything _here. Absolutely _nothing_. Nick had left. And sat here, knowing she couldn't see or do anything at CSI, made her stomach flit with butterflies, and her head fill with nausea. Every slight sound was torturing her. The drip of the IV, the creak of the bed every so often, the rolling past of a medical cart outside, the bleep of the cardiac monitor...

Hot tears ran down her face and her heart flared in pain. Emotional pain. Yet somehow...it felt physical. Her head fell hopelessly, the tears dropping and soaking the blanket, turning it a darker shade of blue.

'_Why?_' she murmured sadly.

--

'Since when was Hodges a sadistic bastard?' Nick muttered under his breath. 'Why would he go this far to hurt Catherine?'

'He _loved _her. And she didn't notice,' Grissom replied, his voice thick with anguish and hate, all in one.

Nick's head filled with the images of everyone who had been a victim of Hodges' plan. And finally came to Catherine. His sweet Catherine.

'He _loved _her? No chance.'

He could feel bile rising in his throat as his eyes fixed on Hodges.

Grissom's eyes flickered briefly to Nick's fixed, iron fists. 'Don't Nick.'

'What?' Nick asked through his teeth.

'He's going to get justice. Don't worry.'

'Grissom! You seriously trying to say that it'll be enough for the government to serve justice and not us? I can't just let him...' he trailed off, shaking his head, heavy tears tracking down his cheeks.

Grissom wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders and squeezed gently. Nick looked into Grissom's eyes. 'We can't...'

'He'll get the needle for this. We can.'

'But Catherine...she's mine...and she was hurt...I need to serve him my own justice...'

'Nick. Calm. It's gonna be alright. Catherine wouldn't want yo-'

'_No._' Nick burst as Hodges gave one more answer. And he was gone from the room. Soon in the next.

'Nick...' Grissom whispered.

Hodges was soon flat on the floor, his face being pummelled right and left.

'This,' Nick landed another punch, 'is for _Catherine_.'

'This,' and another, 'is for _Lindsay_.'

'This,' and another, 'is for _Kaitlin_.'

'And _this_,' and another, 'is for _Warrick_.'

Nick put his face dangerously close to Hodges face. 'Have I forgotten anyone?' He whispered acidically.

Hodges simply groaned, his face raw, blood pouring from the cracks.

'Oh yeah. _This_. Is for the team.'

The last thing Hodges saw before he blacked out was Nick's bloodied fist flying towards his face again. His head fell to the side.

Nick felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. His tears flowed unhindered, soaking Hodges and sending diluted blood drops onto the floor.

'That's enough, Nick. Stop.' Grissom told him sternly.

'But it's _not_...'

'Yes it is. Come with me. Now.'

Nick reluctantly rose to his feet again, flexing his bloodied fingers. He spat on Hodges.

'That's only a _tiny _piece of what you deserve,' Nick hissed at the still form of Hodges, splayed over the floor.

Brass stared coldly at Hodges. He probably should have stopped Nick, but no bone in his body had wanted to make that move. He stalked from the room. No bone in his body wanting to help Hodges up, either. He would come round on his own eventually.

--

'I'm sorry, Griss. But I'm not sorry for what I did to him. I couldn't just _stand _there.'

'I know how you feel Nick.'

'But I don't understand why he would go that far, just because he thought he _loved _her.'

'We've seen worse than this Nick, you know that.'

'Yeah. But this is Hodges. I never thought he was _that _bad.'

Grissom glanced around his office sadly.

'I never thought he was the kind of person _sick enough _to dig up someone, for _fun touch_.'

'We never truly know people, Nick.'

'Is that why you were so detached from people, Griss? Because you knew you could never truly know them?'

'Not like this, Nick. Not like this.'

**Reviewsies xx**


	21. Chapter 21

Nick could feel Grissom's arms tight around him, holding him until he fought no longer, using the energy instead to fight against himself – the urge to leap out and pound that sick bastard's face in more than he already had. Grissom was in pain, grunting as he tried to hold on to his frustrated and violent colleague, wincing as the stitches pulled and his bones crushed together. He felt Nick's struggling subside and released his arms, standing back in case anger overtook his friend. Nick looked at him, one pained, terrible look, before racing out of the lab, out of the PD and away from the sick bastard that had hurt him so. Grissom watched his friend run with tears in his eyes, watched him sprint as fast as he could to the very place that housed the person that was hurting the most because of this. Grissom let out a low growl and felt a comforting touch on his shoulder, the light pressure that Sofia offered bleeding into his strength, calming him. He turned to her, ashamed of his battered and bruised state, ashamed of the river of hot, salty tears that were streaming from his eyes in torrents. She looked at him, a curious crooked smile on her face that told him he shouldn't be ashamed. He sniffed quietly and smiled, taking her hand tightly in his own, squeezing softly. She looked shaken, and so, so vulnerable that he couldn't help but wrap her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world, breathing slowly and heavily like someone just awakening from a deep sleep and sighed softly, her breath tickling the skin of his neck like a feather. Grissom felt her heart beating and sighed, tightening his embrace fractionally. He didn't want to lose her; never did he want to hear her heartbeat splutter and fade.

'You should go after Nick.' She told him, her voice a little more than a whisper.

'I want to stay here… to see what happens to Hodges.' He spat the name like a curse, venom tingeing the last words.

'Or with me?' There was the faintest trace of a smile on her lips as she said this and he felt a ghost of a smile flicker across his face.

'Or with you.' He agreed.

**oOo**

Nick's hands were trembling as he tried to maintain a constant thought, but they kept coming back to Hodges, even as he tried to focus on anything else. Maybe driving whilst doing this was not the best idea, but he needed to see Catherine, needed to explain everything to her, wanted to be with her as she cried and broke down. His mind was racing, barely letting him concentrate on the road ahead and he was unsurprised when flashing lights flared in front of him, dazzling him. He turned the steering wheel slightly so that he was back driving straight towards Desert Palm hospital, to Catherine. The longer he was away from her, the more he shook and the more his anger threatened to engulf him. After a tense drive, he pulled up outside the hospital, mentally preparing himself for the place he hadn't wanted to visit after being hospitalised just over a year ago after being kidnapped. The mere thought of it sent cold tingles down his spine as he remembered the awful claustrophobia and warm air that threatened his ability to breathe. Still shivering, he clambered out of his SUV and walked briskly to the sliding doors of the hospital, outlined by harsh fluorescent lighting that made even the healthiest person look pale and sickly – especially if a healthy person had been reminiscing on memories that caused cold sweat to break out all over their body and violent tremors to erupt, with no sign of stopping. He shrugged his jacket tighter around himself and steeled himself as he walked inside, the waves of stale, air-conditioned air weaving their way around him like a clammy embrace. The receptionist gave him a wry grin and raised her hand in acknowledgement, recognising him from his frequent visits to the hospital. He nodded once and paced hurriedly down the corridors towards her room, to where Catherine was, to where he should be. The moment he entered, he saw Catherine, sobbing silently, shoulders shaking and heart breaking.

'Cath?' His voice was quiet, softly melting around her.

'H-H-Hey.' Her voice trembled and shook as she tried to keep her emotions in control.

'I got him for you… I got the bastard.' She looked up at him and gave him a slight grin that only just lifted the corners of her mouth.

'You did?'

'Of course. He hurt you baby, and if he hurt you, he hurt me.' Tears overflowed and dripped down her face.

'Nick… I want to be discharged… help me prove that I'm okay?'

**oOo**

Hodges opened his eyes, blinking as he rubbed the side of his face gingerly with his hand.

'I guess I deserved that.' He smirked and sat up, watching Grissom detach himself from Sofia and stalk up to him, growling softly from between his teeth and trembling with fury.

'Damn right you did. But there's still one thing I don't get… Why did you write, or…' He trailed off and shuddered, thinking macabre thoughts. 'Engrave… "Got You" on Kaitlin's forehead. And why the mask?'

'That's two things.' Hodges gave a twisted smile. 'But I'll answer.'

'I'm waiting.' Grissom clenched his fists and set his jaw angrily.

'Now then… "Got You"… well, I wanted Catherine's attention, strived for it for so long… that now I finally have it of course. And the mask? Well, thought I'd play with you for a while, just to get you going you know?' Grissom made to punch the analyst, but felt a restraining hand on his arm.

'Grissom don't. He's not worth it.' Sofia's gentle voice filtered into his mind, soothing him slightly as he made to control his anger.

'He killed them Sofia, killed my best friend's children.' She reached a hand round and softly stroked his face.

'I know… but you can't do anything about it now.' Grissom trembled again.

'That's what makes me so angry…' Sofia walked round in front of him and stared into his eyes, her hand gently caressing his cheek.

'Relax…' She whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. 'It's over.'

**oOo**

Greg sighed and stretched, opening his eyes as he awoke in Sara's bed, her sleeping quietly next to him. He grinned softly and slipped out of the bed, sneaking down to her kitchen, hunger gnawing his insides. He slid into the kitchen, opening her cupboards, looking for something to satisfy his sweet tooth. He looked up and realised he'd been staring at it all along. A cupcake sat on the shelf, one of two in a packet.

'Cupcake… sounds good.' He smirked.

**Reviews and you can have the cupcake? Please? We got none for the last chapter :'(**


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